


just add water

by hippopotamus



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Sad Isak, Slow Burn, Sort of Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2019-10-12 11:23:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 52,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17466656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippopotamus/pseuds/hippopotamus
Summary: Mostly, he's just alone.He hasn't spoken to any of his old friends in - how long has it been, now? A year? Two?And he doesn't mind it. He settles easily into the silence, into the routine of every day life.Sometimes, though - sometimes, he's lonely.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello welcome to A Life Of Regrets  
> title is from just add water by cavetown!!  
> shoutouts to bri and isi for being the most awesome and responding to my honestly never ending requests for validation  
> disclaimer that i know Nothing about A Lot Of Things that i mention in this fic, and although it's """"set in oslo"""" in my head the bar isak works at is basically a classic british pub because my world experience is very narrow and ur just gonna have to deal with it  
> ok enjoy!

There’s a thin layer of snow on the ground when Isak leaves work at 3AM. It’s only after walking out into it that he remembers something being mentioned about it earlier. The first snow of the year, and it would happen in the early hours, so that normal people would wake up to a thick blanket of it around the city.

Isak gets the best part of it, though. He gets the silence, the thick flakes drifting down to the ground, and settling there, somehow warm despite being frozen. He pulls his jacket closer around him, and cracks a tiny smile as he wanders down the street.

Truly, he doesn’t mind working at the bar. Sure, there are more drunk people than he knows what to do with sometimes, and people hitting on him when he’d really rather they didn’t. And people getting arsey with him if he tells them he won’t serve them anything more. But he doesn’t mind it.

Because when the bar is shut and cleaned for the night, and everything’s quiet, Isak walks himself home, down deserted streets, almost as if the end of the world has happened while he was cleaning a sticky spilt drink from one of the bar stools. And it has, it has, until someone drives past him recklessly, or he finds himself passing a kindred soul in the street.

He’s the last person in the universe, and it’s the most comforting thought he could have.

The snow continues to build, until he’s making footprints - the first footprints, in the first snow. He’s not one for poetry, but there are times when it falls into his head anyway, made for him from the snow on the ground and the silence of the street.

It’s a twenty minute walk - fifteen if he actually wants to get there - but it never feels long enough when he’s in his head like this. He’s been known, sometimes, to walk around the block to make the time stretch further - but it really is freezing, and he doesn’t have gloves with him.

He barely manages to fumble around in his pockets for the key to his apartment with his fingers so numb, something that he hadn’t noticed until now, lost as he was in his head.

But despite the cold, he hesitates before entering his home. The quiet inside is different to the quiet outside. Outside, it’s quiet, and he’s alone, and he likes it. Inside, it’s quiet, and he’s lonely.

He thought living alone was the logical next step, after kollektivet. Going from the too busy noise of 4 students grating on each other at every step, to the blissful silence of his own company. It was perfect, written down.

And there’s a sofa bed, so he could let his mum stay when she needed it - when she needed time away from his dad, or when his dad inevitably vanished again for a few weeks, and she didn’t want to be alone.

That part didn’t work out. Isak twists her ring on his finger absentmindedly.

And there was going to be parties. In the second year at uni, of course there would be parties. The place is big enough.

Not as big as is own head, though.

He took a year out of uni, after his mum - and it’s been two years, now. He could reapply, but he won’t. He doesn’t have a reason to, and every idea he has about going back echoes around and around the apartment, just waiting for him to disagree with it, and he always caves eventually.

He’s doing fine. Stable job, stable apartment. Enough guilt money from his dad. He sees the regulars at the bar, and that counts well enough for friends. He’s taken himself off social media, because it’s going round as the healthy thing to do, now, to keep away from stuff that poisons social interactions. He even gets eight hours of sleep, although it’s later in the day than most. He’s normal. He’s fine.

He’s lonely, but that’s the only thing wrong in his life anymore. Everything else is old news, just a twinging feeling at the back of his consciousness when he thinks too closely about things that are long since over. So if it has to be loneliness, he’ll take that over all the other pain that life could and has thrown at him. He’ll settle for loneliness.

*

He wakes at 1PM, and soon realises his fridge is empty and the apartment is a mess - and it’s his day off, so he really has no excuse not to do something about it.

There’s still snow on the ground when he leaves to go to the store, but it no longer brings the peaceful sensation of being the last person on Earth. Instead, the grey sludge is a bitter reminder that people - including Isak - ruin everything they touch. There’s poetry in that, too, but he doesn’t let it form, now. He pushes it away, and moves on to what he’s supposed to be doing.

He enters the warm shop, steering clear of the frozen food aisle until he can coax some warmth back into his fingers, because he forgot his gloves again for the ten minute walk to the shop.

“Isak?”

He should be happy to hear a voice that he recognises from two years of living in such close quarters, but he’s ashamed to say that he mutters a curse under his breath before he fixes a fake smile on to turn to her.

“Hi, Noora!”

“Oh my god, it is you!” she exclaims, and moves forward to pull him down into a hug. He halfheartedly returns it, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and squeezing a little so that he doesn’t seem rude. “God, how long has it been? How are you?” she pulls away, and looks at him expectantly.

He shrugs. “A while, for sure,” he says. “How are you? And - Eskild, and Linn?”

“Good - good, everyone’s good,” she says, smiling and nodding with her blonde hair and red lipstick exactly how he remembers them, exactly as tiring to look at. “No one’s seen you in ages,” she says, finally letting the smile drop. “Even Eva says you haven’t been in contact with her, or - or Jonas?”

“Oh, I - yeah, uh,” he’s spent two years trying to avoid this conversation - and others like it. “Just been busy, I guess. Do you still talk with Eva?” he asks quickly to shift the focus of the conversation.

“Of course,” Noora smiles widely, although it wavers almost immediately. “She misses you.”

He quirks an eyebrow, making an easy joke instead of listening to the gentle tone she says it in. “You talk about me?”

“You’ve left an Isak shaped hole in all of our lives,” she says. “Eskild goes on about it, too. But hey,” she says, continuing fast enough that he thankfully doesn’t have to craft a good response to that. “Are you busy next saturday? Eskild’s having a ‘small’ party. He’d love it if you showed up.”

“He still tries to claim that his parties are small?” Isak manages to joke, and there’s a feeling settling in his chest that he can’t push away fast enough before it gives itself a name - longing.

“He hasn’t changed,” says Noora, and the more he sees her, the nicer her smile becomes. “So are you free?”

“Oh, uh, shit, no.” Most  - _most_ \- of the disappointment is faked. “Sorry, I’m working.”

“In the evening?”

“Yeah, I, uh, I’m working at a bar, at the moment.” He worries that if he tells her which bar, she’ll find an excuse to tell Eva. And it’s not that he doesn’t want to see them - but he doesn’t. It’s too - too - it’s just too much.

“Oh,” she says, and her disappointment actually seems real. “Well, listen, if you change your mind or manage to get the time off - we’re in the same place we’ve always been.”

He doesn’t know exactly how to respond to this. It feels a little as though she doesn’t believe that he’s actually working. “Thanks, Noora. I’ll, uh, see you around?”

“I hope so,” Noora says. “Do you still have everyone’s numbers? I know you deactivated your facebook, but -”

“Yeah, I think so,” Isak says. “I mean, mine hasn’t changed, either.”

“I’ll tell Eva to text you, then,” she says decisively, before turning away from him. “It was good to see you, Isak,” she says over her shoulder, and then she’s gone.

Isak stands for a moment, with the longing coming and going in his chest. He doesn’t want Eva to text him, and he wants her to text him more than anything. It’s complicated, but it’s so, so easy.

He’s just - lonely. And he can’t really deny that he misses his old friends, now. Not now that he’s let himself think about them.

Still. He’s working on saturday. And maybe Eva won’t even text him.

*

 **Eva (18:32):** Hey Isak! Noora told me she ran into you this afternoon! It’s so crazy that it’s been so long since any of us have seen you, I miss you so much :(

It’s been so long since they texted that the message above that one still reads _“hey, just heard about your mum :( i’m so sorry, isak. let me know if i can do anything, i’m always here for you, you know that <3” _

It wasn’t the last time they messaged, but since he’s deleted facebook, it’s the last message he has from her. He stares at the message for a few minutes, before deciding he’ll reply later, after a shower to help him sort out his thoughts, perhaps.

He returns to his phone half an hour later to a second message from Eva.

 **Eva (18:55):** God TURN OFF YOUR READ RECEIPTS IF YOU WANT TO PRETEND YOU DIDNT SEE IT

 **Isak (19:04):** haha, shit, sorry eva

wasn’t sure what to say

i miss you too

 **Eva (19:05):** the correct thing to say is let’s get coffee! free tomorrow?

 **Isak (19:07)** : i think so?

 **Eva (19:07):** thank you for being so enthusiastic isakyaki

He hasn’t heard that nickname in a while, but that doesn’t help him decide whether he should be meeting up with Eva.

*

She hugs him tighter than Noora did, but he wouldn’t expect anything less from her. He wouldn’t expect anything less than the squeal he heard from her the moment he walked into the cafe, because that’s just Eva, always has been. It’s a great comfort, actually, to know that it still is her.

The whole meeting fills him with nostalgia. It’s the cafe they used to go to together after school, both buying different varieties of chocolate flavoured drinks, and splitting a piece of cheesecake between them because it tasted so good that they couldn’t not buy one, but it was so expensive that they couldn’t get one each.

Eva grins at him like she knows exactly what he’s thinking about before speaking.

“I didn’t order for you,” she says, looking slightly sheepish. “Mostly because it’s been a while since I’ve seen you, and I’ve yet to work out whether you’re the same mocha drinking boy I knew two years ago. But also because you have a job, and I’m eternally unemployed, so you can pay for your own coffee.”

Isak smiles genuinely, putting his coat over the back of his chair before heading over to the counter. “Want anything else?” he asks over his shoulder.

She tilts her head. “Is that cheesecake in the fridge?”

*

After the encounters of the weekend, it’s a blessing to go back to the routine he relies on. To work, at 7PM, greeting Alex in the backroom before he starts his shift. Alex, all things considered, is probably the closest thing Isak has to a friend at the moment. But they only ever talk about work stuff, and if he ever texts him, it’s to say “can we swap shifts” or something equally benign.

Isak goes out to the front, all smiles for the regulars that are already there and will stay there as long as they can until Isak kicks them out (again, with a smile, albeit usually a more tired one). His shift usually drags, he gets roped into mundane conversations and dragged out of them with a call for another drink. He passes the time by learning card tricks from Erik, one of the regulars, who’s usually alone, and more often than not looking for something to pass the time with, too. He’s taken Isak under his wing, it seems, and a couple of weeks ago, he even brought Isak an old pack of cards, that he described as his lucky pack. Isak had let out a rare real smile when Erik handed the cards over and said in his gruff voice “you look after them, now.”

When the bar closes for the night, and Isak has managed to shepherd everyone out into the cool night air, he tidies up. It isn’t usually a big job during the week, when they close at 12 - maybe a spilt drink here or there, but in general he wipes down the tables and the bar and puts things back in the right place, and then he’s done. He locks the doors, goes to the back room, and sheds his mask, leaving it on the coat hanger that he takes his jacket and beanie from, and he heads home for the night, taking his time to walk through the quiet streets - not quite as deserted at 1AM as 3AM, but close enough.

It’s odd, though, this time. He thinks about saturday for the whole walk home. He is owed time off, after all. Even if he does nothing with it, maybe he should ask for the day off, just in case. But he’s certain he won’t end up going.

Because it’d be difficult. To see Eskild after this long. Isak would probably end up suffocating under his embraces and his questions. He’d like to see Linn, though. See that she’s still doing okay. And - and he’d _like_ to see Eskild, too. He just isn’t sure he can take it.

The others might be there, too, although many of them are scattered to the four winds, in universities across the country, across the world, even. Jonas is still in Oslo, somewhere. Eskild’s parties never used to be his scene, though. Isak isn’t sure whether that’s a point towards or against going.

The internal debate takes him to his front door, and inside it, where he’s lonely, where the heavy silence makes up his mind for him.

He asks Alex if he can take the day off before he can think too much of it, and falls asleep with a swirling brain.

*

He stands in the street next to kollektivet for five minutes before steeling himself, silencing his chest, and moving forward. There are people outside, but they look more like Eskild’s friends than anyone he should know, so he walks past, and up the familiar stairs, pushing the door open slowly,

Almost before he can register anything about who's in the room, he's enveloped in a familiar flowery alcohol-y scent.

“The prodigal son returns!” Eskild exclaims loudly. “Isak Valtersen, Isak, baby Jesus, how i've missed you!”

“Hi, Eskild,” Isak says, awkwardly patting his back. “Good to see you.”

The rest of the greetings are somewhat less dramatic, of the people who are there. He gets a hug from Linn, and another from Eva, a nod from Noora, and a quiet “hiiii” from an already drunk Vilde.

Eva had already told him at the cafe that Sana is studying medicine abroad, and that Chris is in Trondheim for a year, so he reassured himself that all of he introductions are done, now. He can just get a drink, mingle a little, and go when he gets tired.

“Jonas is in the kitchen,” Eva says to him quietly, when the fuss has died down, and Eskild has been dragged away from interrogating Isak by a sighing Noora. “I made sure he came tonight in case you showed.”

“Oh.” It's all Isak can think to say.

“Mahdi and Magnus, too,” Eva smiles. “They'd like to see you.”

He takes a deep breath. “Yeah, of course. Yeah.”

She smiles, places an arm around his shoulders and squeezes. “It's good to have you back, Isak.”

He gives a half hearted laugh in response. “Yeah, it's good to be back.”

There's not masses of people in the apartment, but there are more than can easily fit, so the journey from front door to kitchen, although familiar, takes a while.

He gets there, though, and peeks round the corner before making his appearance known.

There are four boys at the table in the kitchen. A familiar picture, one that brings to mind countless pregames. Magnus,  Mahdi, Jonas, and him, sitting round the table, talking about something completely pointless, that would make them all laugh anyway.

He still remembers how good it felt to be the centre of the laughter. How easy it was with those three, just relaxing, getting drunk, getting high.

And now, there's someone else in his place. Isak can't see his face, he's facing away, but his energy is just - bigger than Isak’s has ever been. He has the attention of the group, and he leans back in his chair as if he knows exactly what to do with it, the laugh coming from him designed to make people love him.

Jonas, Magnus, and Mahdi already do. It seems like they might have done for a while. Isak’s tempted to escape before they see him; he's never felt so much like an intruder around Jonas as he does now.

Magnus sees him before he runs.

“Isak!” he exclaims, leaping out of his seat and tackling Isak in an enthusiastic bear hug. “How long has it been, man?”

“Hi,” Isak tries not to sound unenthusiastic, because he isn't, but the thing is, the boy in his place has turned, now, and he knows how to smile better than Isak ever could too. There's an uncomfortable clenching in his chest, because of course, of course they found someone better than him to fill the gap.

Mahdi is grinning, with an excited “hey!” and Jonas is standing from his chair, calmer than Magnus was, but no less excited.

Isak underestimated the level of comfort he could get from a hug. He takes a shaky breath when Jonas wraps his arms round him, and holds back tighter than ever.

“God,” Jonas mutters. “It's been too fucking long, Isak.”

“Yeah,” Isak says, knowing that he has to let go now so that it doesn't get weird, but he's never wanted to do anything less. “Good to see you.”

Jonas lets go, and looks around. “Pull up a chair!” he says. “Oh, and this is Even, friend from uni. Even - Isak, the guy we’re always on about.” Isak lets himself smile at the fact that so many people talk about him, and pushes down the guilt and unworthiness that try to surface.

He's never talked about them - finds it too hard to mention more than “a friend” if he ever has to bring them up, and he avoids even that when he can. Thankfully, it’s his job as a bartender to listen to the stories told to him, only telling his own when it’s relevant. He’s finding it less and less relevant the longer he’s away from them.

Even offers his hand for Isak to shake. “Good to meet you, man,” he says. “Didn't know if I ever would,” he says it with a smile, but Isak doesn't hear it with one.

He shouldn't be upset that Even exists to take his place. He _isn't_ upset, but he doesn't have time to convince himself of that before he shakes Even’s hand with a surly nod. “Yeah, hi.”

Jonas moves two steps across the room, and grabs a free chair, pulling it towards the table. “Here, sit,” he says, and Even seems to notice that he’s the one taking up the extra space at the table and shifts his chair towards Jonas’s to make a space next to Mahdi.

It’s not Isak’s place to tell him how wrong that feels. Instead, he sits with a smile and a nod of thanks, and tries to take an interest in the conversation, however much he wishes he were somewhere else. He sits through question after question about how and what he’s doing, and returns them all back to everyone. He learns more about Even than he needs to know, and more about his friendship with the boys than he cares to hear about. He hears of Jonas’s masters degree, and Mahdi’s internship, and Magnus’s long term girlfriend, and weakly tries to make a joke about it, bringing to mind their old conversations.

“Does she have a cat tongue?”

The last time Isak hung out with them all properly, it would have been the first thing they’d ask Magnus about a new girlfriend, or even a recent hook up. He forgets that time has passed since then, but now, the reaction he notices most strongly is Even’s look of confusion, and although he doesn’t give the confusion a voice, it’s louder in Isak’s ears than the scattered laughter from the other three.

“God, yeah,” Jonas says. “We never asked. Does she, Mags?”

Magnus rolls his eyes. “Obviously,” he says with a huff of laughter.

There’s real anger welling up inside Isak in the next second - real, unjustified anger - when Mahdi explains the joke to Even across Isak. He tries to push it down, but it won’t budge, no matter how firmly he reasons with himself that _Even just wanted to know what the joke was_. All he can do is not show it - but he’s at least good at that.

He lets the conversation move on, with his fist clenched tightly, only speaking when spoken to. Some of it passes without him even paying attention, and suddenly without warning everyone at the table is starting to stand. Isak looks at Jonas in question.

“We’re going to smoke,” he says. “Come out with us?”

But Isak sees that it’s Even holding the little bag of weed, and he knows he’d be intruding.

“Nah,” he says as if it doesn’t bother him at all. “I don’t really smoke anymore. I’ll go catch up with Eskild. Nice to see you all, though,” he smiles, and Jonas nods.

Isak has to persuade himself that the boys didn’t give up too easy, that they were respecting his boundaries - the boundaries that he invented five seconds ago - but he can’t help but wish that they’d tried a little harder to convince him.

He doesn’t know what he wants anymore. But it’s nothing that a good night’s sleep won’t put right, and besides, it’s getting close to his favourite time of day to walk home alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have never had less of a plan for a fic than i do for this fic so!!! comments ideas thoughts suggestions all are welcome!! ly for reading thank u  
> tumblr is [HERE](http://evenshands.tumblr.com)  
> love always xxx


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a couple of things before we begin  
> 1-THANK YOU SO MUCH for ur lovely response to the last chapter!!! i am so thankful that you all enjoyed and i hope the rest lives up to expectations (i am Very Concerned that it won't as i feel like im walking on a very thin line between bad writing and indecisive character pov its DIFFICULT and im not sure it works)  
> 2 - i stole some stuff from the skam script books for this fic. idk why i just feel like i need to warn people bc i know some people are Not Happy about the stuff in there and i dont believe its technically canon but i am using it in this fic bc it works for this universe ok anyway
> 
> ok sorry about the monster note i just Worry about stuff so i have to explain everything in case people get mad  
> ENJOY!

Isak rarely sees the sunrise anymore. His sleep schedule is almost exclusively mornings, and it's been a while since he had real trouble sleeping. 

He gets home from the party, and he's exhausted, more so than he's been in a long time.

And he watches the sun rising through a crack in his curtains, because there's too much going round his head. It's high in the sky by the time he writes sleep off as a bad job. 

it's nearly 9 when he sits up, and as soon as he stands he feels dizzy, but he grits his teeth through it and shuffles to his kitchen to get some coffee, picking his phone up from his bedside table as he does and unlocking it, expecting to see the usual  _ No new notifications _ staring back at him.

This morning, he has a message from Eskild, and it makes him realise just how much he was ready to put a lid on all of his old friendships after last night. It hurt to see them more than it was nice to be around people outside of work.

He doesn't need to keep hurting himself like that. He has his own company, and a job full of people to talk to him, and - maybe he should get another job to fill the time when he'd usually be playing video games. Or - maybe he could learn a language. Or pick up one of the many hobbies that his mum cycled through phases of. He still has all her old stuff - wouldn't let dad throw it away. 

He could start drumming again. His sister’s old kit is going dusty in the corner of the room, because she said she'd want it when she moved back to Oslo, only since their mum - she's not moving back, but he can't bring himself to get rid of it. 

He doesn't know if he’s angry enough for drumming. It was good, to have it after everything had started going wrong. Maybe the downstairs neighbours don't like it, but the lady upstairs is too deaf to care about it.

But everything has settled, now. He's not angry anymore, he's just - settled. 

He slumps down onto the sofa, toys with the xbox controller for a moment, and then flicks over to netflix to rewatch  _ It's Always Sunny _ , before he remembers the unopened text from Eskild. He reads it from his notifications, remembering that he has his read receipts on - the only person who ever texts him is his dad, and sometimes - usually - he's annoyed enough by his interactions that he needs to make a point. 

**Eskild (02:01):** _baby jesus!!!!! where did you go :( we need to…_

He doesn't have the energy to reply to it yet, so he leaves the preview and tries not to wonder what else the message says. 

It's late in the afternoon by the time he can be bothered to read the message. He's spent the time on his sofa, lying on his side and drifting in and out of restless sleep while netflix plays in the background, only standing when he absolutely had to because his stomach was cramping from hunger or his bladder was threatening to explode. 

Eskild wants to meet up. Isak could have guessed that that's what he wanted, but he was trying not to think about it. There's an open invitation to go round to kollektivet whenever he's free. 

Isak likes open invitations. It means he has an excuse not to show, because he “couldn't find the time.” He sends back an unspecific “yeah, i'll see when i'm free, thanks” and calls it a day, flopping back onto the couch with a huff. 

Half an hour later Eskild sees through his bullshit.

**Eskild (16:02):** _ not falling for that one again sweetie! you've been putting me on hold long enough! come for dinner tomorrow evening, just me linn and noora! we don't bite! _

He half expects Eskild to add another message, something featuring a winking face and a contradiction of his last sentence, but nothing comes. Isak gets impatient with his fingers tapping against the bottom of his phone, until he can’t be bothered to wait anymore. He just wants this over with - and he replies on autopilot, half of him thinking that Eskild won’t take no for an answer anyway, and the other half thinking about being lonely.

**Isak (16:27):** _ok, sounds nice, see you tomorrow_

Why did he send that? Why is he agreeing to this - he told himself he’d put it behind him. He  _ knows _ he’s better away from old friends - he has a schedule - he has control. Or - he  _ had _ that.

**Eskild (16:27):** _ CANT WAIT _

It's just strange how one accidental encounter in a supermarket can throw off his whole routine. He was so settled into his life, and now - 

He should take up drumming again. 

 

*

 

It shouldn’t be so nerve wracking to stand outside his old apartment. 

Isak suspects that any regular person, when put in this situation, would jump at the chance to see people they hadn’t properly spoken to in years. They’d be overflowing with excitement at this point, on the front doorstep, waiting to be let in.

Isak, though, is overflowing with the need to get it over with, because he’s made a deal with himself. After this, he’s done. He’ll put all of this - his old life, his old friends, everything - behind him, and he’ll move the fuck on. Find a hobby, and if it has to be drumming then so be it.

After this, he’ll go back to pretending he didn’t see the messages, or maybe he’ll just get a new phone. Maybe he won’t even tell his dad his new number. He’ll go back to eating crappy takeout food on the sofa while watching shows on netflix, and he’ll have his job to keep him alive, and he’ll be just fine. 

Eskild lets him in to the apartment with a familiar sing-song “Isak!” and pulls him immediately into a hug. Isak’s getting better at not feeling like his entire body is seizing up at being embraced like this, and he hugs back, tight. Tighter than he thought he would.

“Hey, good to see you,” he says, quiet next to Eskild’s energy that’s filling up the hallway as usual.

Eskild beams. “Come in! The girls are in the kitchen.”

“Linn’s in the kitchen?” Isak raises an eyebrow, remembering a second too late how flat it fell when he tried to joke around the boys at the party.

Eskild loves it, though. “Do you know, she’s actually letting Noora teach her to cook?”

Isak actually smiles a little. “And you?”

Eskild lets out a dramatic sigh. “I’m still waiting for the perfect chef boyfriend to fall into my arms.”

“No luck, yet, then?” 

As he leans down to untie his shoes, Isak considers that he might actually care about the answer. He’s used to asking questions like this at work, because the regulars at the bar, or the sad looking customers, always want to talk about it, and he may as well pass the time by listening. So he’s gotten good at knowing what to say - but this time, he might actually want to know the answer. 

Maybe not, though. He could just be getting caught up in the pretense - he won’t know for sure until he’s safely alone again.

Eskild tells him about the usual drama surrounding his love life, and Isak smiles at the familiarity of it all, the feeling that maybe not that much has changed after all.

“Is he telling you about Daniel?” is the first thing that Noora asks when they enter the kitchen five minutes later. She doesn't even turn around from the pan on the stove, just asks without looking, smile audible in her voice. “We all know he'll come back for more, Eskild. I give it two weeks at most.”

“I give it one,” says Linn, smiling wryly. “What's the most it's been, ten days? And he decides he needs that dick.”

Eskild throws his hands into the air in exasperation. “But we aren't exclusive or anything! He could have zero feelings for me whatsoever.”

“But he doesn't,” Noora says, waving the spatula she's holding at Eskild. “Talk. To. Him.”

Isak almost feels as though he's never left. He has to remind himself, though, that leaving was what he wanted. There was a reason for it. 

Still, he settles into the conversation, an easy back and forth between the four of them as they eat. Isak doesn't feel interrogated like he did with Eva, he feels cared about. 

It's comfortable. Strange. 

He doesn't know whether he likes it - probably not. 

Probably not. 

 

*

It must be a scientific fact that once something happens once, it happens over and over again. Isak doesn’t know how, but then, he quit his science degree a year and a half in, so maybe he missed an important lesson somewhere. Once you notice something once, you start to see it everywhere.

Once you see an old friend once, you’re guaranteed to bump into them again.

He’s on his way to work with his head down, not getting lost in his thoughts like he wishes he could because it’s too busy out for that, but still getting lost in the rhythm of his feet on the ground. ·

Usually, nothing can get through to him like this, focussed as he is on walking, but this time he looks up, because there’s a laugh. A laugh designed to make people fall in love - a laugh designed to replace Isak’s.

And, when his attention is drawn back to the world around him, he hears Jonas, too.

The two of them are across the street, talking animatedly about something that Isak doesn’t know - doesnt want to know the details of. Jonas is turned away from Isak, towards Even, and Isak takes comfort in the fact that he won’t be seen, and he won’t have to even acknowledge that this ever happened, however much there’s a part of him telling him to  _ cross the road right now. _ It’s just easier not to.

He doesn’t factor in the fact that Even could recognise him, and he does, nudging Jonas mid-sentence and gesturing over to Isak, smiling as if they’re friends.

Isak only smiles after Jonas turns, and lifts a hand in greeting, hoping that his exterior is calm enough to mask the panic inside him. 

He doesn’t want to see Jonas. He wanted to put an end to this, to go back to his routine. He wanted to be settled.

Jonas crosses the street. Even follows behind him, both of them grinning widely.

“Hey, guys,” Isak says weakly.

Jonas pulls him into a hug with an enthusiastic “hey” in greeting. “What are you up to?” he asks as he pulls back. 

“Oh, uh, just heading to work.” Isak says. “You?”

“We’re just going to meet Mahdi,” Jonas says, and frowns a little. “I’d invite you along, but if you’re working…”

“Ha, yeah, shame,” Isak replies, internally heaving a sigh of relief. “But, uh, have fun! I better go.”

He tries to smile, and doesn’t pause to wonder whether it looks more like a grimace before he turns.

“Wait, Isak-” Jonas stops him with a hand on his arm, and he tries to act as if it doesn’t bother him - or maybe bother isn’t the right word. Affect him. Confuse him. Something like that - something he doesn’t like. “Is your - is your number still the same?”

Isak gives a single nod, immediately regretting not thinking to lie. 

“I’ll text you, then?”

“Sure, yeah. Wh-” he stops himself from saying  _ whatever _ . “Okay.”

Jonas smiles again. “Awesome. See you later, than?”

“Yeah.” He glances over at Even, silent through this whole conversation, and immediately regrets it. He’s staring at Isak, with an intense look that Isak can’t fathom. Isak only meant to look at him to say goodbye, to be polite, but he’s left with more confusion than he signed up for. He clears his throat, looking down at his feet. “Anyway, bye, guys.”

“See you later, Isak,” Even’s stare is replaced with a friendly smile, and Isak turns away before he can give in to the anger he feels at Even being there, trying to talk to him, trying to be nice to him. Making Jonas notice him. 

He needs someone to blame for his life being out of control, so he chooses Even.

 

*

 

Isak made a deal with himself, a year and a half ago. If ever his life felt out of control, he would visit his mum.

It’s been… a while, since he was here for that reason, and a week and a half since he was here because he comes on the third of every month no matter what happens. He’s not sure how to feel about it - on one hand, proud, because he’s made it this far, being in control. On the other hand, why did it have to go wrong  _ now? _ He was doing so well.

He visits her grave in the early afternoon - early morning, for him. It’s the same as it always is, he sits in the grass in front of her, tearing some of the grass up since his hands don’t have a whole lot to do. 

Eventually he takes the pack of her favourite cigarettes out of his pocket, remembering his lie at the party  _ “I don’t really smoke much anymore.”  _

Truthfully, he doesn’t. He hasn’t touched weed in a long time, because it always felt too much like a social thing for him. And he only ever smokes cigarettes while he’s here. It’s kind of fucked up, but it makes him feel closer to his mum. 

There was a scale, of how well she was doing, based on how much she smoked. On her worst days, she couldn’t leave the house, even to the front door. And Isak’s dad may not have cared about much at all, but he would never let her smoke in the house, even out a window. On her best days, when she barely felt like his mum at all, she would try to quit. 

Isak’s fondest memories of her are in the middle. When she hugged him, however much he hated it at the time, she would smell of these cigarettes. 

There’s also the fact that his dad would hate it, if he could see him right now. 

Isak never talks out loud to his mum. He rips up the grass, he smokes, and he thinks. Sometimes lets his gaze wander around the cemetery, building lives in his head for every single person buried here. 

There’s one that his eyes fall on a lot, because almost every time he comes, there seems to be new flowers on the grave, always forget-me-nots. This time, they aren’t there - but Isak knows that whoever visits her must be like him, they come every month on the same day - on the second - because she died on the second. He wandered by her grave, in the row behind his mum, out of curiosity, the third time he came here.

Her name was June Naesheim, and she died a while ago, more than fifteen years ago now. Yet someone cares enough to still visit - maybe the best friend described in her epitaph, and sometimes Isak finds himself wondering what that person is like.

Isak doesn’t tend to think about the future much because it’s too far out of his routine. But he’s not sure he’ll still be visiting his mum every month fifteen years from now. He was never that good of a son.

But it helps, to be here in the quiet. Remembering what it’s like to be alone without needing someone here with him. Feeling fresh air on his face and remembering how big the world is. There’s just something about it. 

He doesn’t talk to his mum, doesn’t know how. Never knew how when she was alive, either, so it tracks. It’s good enough to sit with her.

It’s more than he ever did when she was alive, but he tries not to think about that.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bonjour welcome to Sadness™️  
> enjoyo

It doesn’t take long for everyone to give up texting him again. He’s turned his read receipts off now, and he reads the full texts safe in the knowledge that he never has to let anyone know he saw them. 

He’ll miss being able to visibly ignore his dad, but there are other ways that he can let him know he’s mad at him - or maybe it’s time to put that behind him, too. He could let that settle the same way he lets everything else settle. It’s probably easier that way. 

He just knows that he’s better like this. Without everyone getting involved, and everything getting out of control. For a moment, he let his loneliness get the better of him, but he knows that it’s more stress than it’s worth. 

When he gets lonely, now, he picks up drumsticks, twirls them around his fingers a couple of times, and plays as loud as he can. He’s yet to get a noise complaint, and he’ll use that to his advantage for as long as he can - besides, he only really plays when people are out at work. 

Sometimes, when he plays, he thinks of Lea, of where she might be now. Last he spoke to her, she was in Berlin, with her boyfriend, working in some museum. But she changes her mind so fast on what she wants to do that he wouldn’t be surprised if she was in America or somewhere equally far off. She takes after their mum like that, always finding something new and ditching the last thing easily and quickly. The only difference is that Lea can get up and go without hesitating, or being held back by her mind or her family.

Isak has always been much more tied to things. Finds it much harder to let go then his sister does. It’s why he still has his mum’s stuff in boxes around his apartment. It’s why he still thinks about Lea, even when he’s convinced he hasn’t crossed her mind since they last spoke. 

She’s the only person he’s ever tempted to text, until he remembers how infuriating she can be. It makes it a little easier to let go.

Okay, she’s not the only person he’s ever tempted to text. She’s the only person he’s had an entire text written out to before deleting it. Anyone else he’s wanted to text has just been an idea in his brain that he squashed down as quickly as it came up. A single letter in response to Jonas’s  _ are you free to hang any time soon? _ or his thumb, hovering over the emoji keyboard after Eskild’s  _ we have got to hang out more often baby jesus! _

And, later, he regrets even thinking about texting them. He  _ knows _ it’s better this way.

He just plays drums, to get rid of all the thoughts, and when his arms are tired, he plays video games. And then he goes to work, and he sleeps, and he eats halfway normally, and he’s fine. 

He’s doing fine. He’s back in control. 

*

He doesn't live in a particularly nice area, but sometimes he walks around it just to say he's left the house once on his days off.

It's been snowing on and off since the first snow - mostly on. He makes footprints everywhere he goes, now, or adds to the ones that are already there. 

When his thoughts wander, now, they think about ice, about how there's no two snowflakes the same, but how they always make hexagonal patterns because of the way the molecules freeze. He doesn't know if he cares about it anymore - about the science behind it, but he can't deny that there's some beauty in it. 

He doesn't think about people - or he tries not to. Tries not to remember the times he and Jonas have been ice skating, or the time he watched Eskild fall over three times just on the street in front of kollektivet, and did nothing to help aside from laugh his ass off. 

He tries to think of his routine. Think about how well everything’s been going recently, steady and normal like always - disregarding the old friends showing up out of nowhere.

And then his mind takes him forward, to  _ what next _ and  _ is this really it, forever? _ His mind tells him he’s lonely.

He doesn’t listen. At least, he doesn’t do anything about it.

*

Nine days after his meeting with Jonas, things go out of control again - but he’s at work this time, so he has to pretend that everything’s fine, while Erik’s in the middle of teaching him how to be good at card tricks. 

“It’s about the flourishes, kid. Anyone can say “is this your card?” You have to give them a  _ performance _ .” 

Isak is grinning as he flips the cards from one hand to the other, asking “like this?” when the door opens, and Jonas walks in, swiftly followed by Even. The cards almost fall to the floor, but he catches and tightens his grip on them, knuckles going white as he tries to keep his composure. 

“You alright, kid?”

Isak shakes his head a little to clear it, turning back to Erik with a grin. “Yeah, course. I’ll be back in a minute, alright?”

He puts the cards down on the bar, and crosses to the other side where Jonas and Even have found seats. They aren’t surprised at all to see Isak - and of course they wouldn’t be. He may not have told them out loud which bar he works at, but it wouldn’t have been hard to work it out, or to ask Eva.

“Hey guys, what can I get you?” He’s halfway between his normal voice and his customer service voice, because it doesn’t feel right to do either. 

Jonas grins. “Is there a discount for your childhood best friend who is desperately trying to get back in contact with you?”

Isak blinks at him for a second, then clears his throat uncomfortably, quickly coming to the most painless decision, and turning to hide his unease. “You still drink the same crap beer?”

“I do,” replies Jonas. “And it’s still not crap.”

Isak raises an eyebrow at him as he hands it over. “That’s what you think.”

“I’m pretty sure as a bartender you’re not meant to insult any of the beers you sell.”

“I’m pretty sure as an unemployed student you’re not allowed to tell me how to do my job.” It’s surprisingly easy to tease Jonas, even after the time that’s passed since the last time they spoke this easily. Just as soon as he’s letting an easy smile spread across his face, though, his eyes fall on Even, and he remembers himself. He directs his next question to him. “What can I get for you?” He tries not to let the smile drop,

“Oh, I’ll just have water, please,” he’s infuriatingly polite. 

“Sure.”

Thankfully, Isak’s pretty quickly called back across the bar to serve another drink, and Erik calls his attention while he’s over there too, gesturing over to Jonas and Even.

“Friends of yours?”

“Sort of, yeah,” Isak shrugs noncommittally. “Anyway,” he says, brightening his tone falsely and picking the cards back up. “Any other tricks you can teach me?”

“Wouldn’t be avoiding anyone, would you?”

Isak rolls his eyes. “What makes you think that?”

Erik takes the cards from Isak, and laughs. “Go and talk to them, kid. I’ve taught you everything I know anyway.”

He walks over to Jonas slowly, willing someone, anyone, to choose now to want another drink - but it’s Thursday night, and it’s not busy.

Even sees him coming first, glances at Jonas, then picks up his water and downs it all in one go, jumping out of his seat and muttering “I gotta pee.”

When Isak looks at Jonas with a confused expression, Jonas just laughs nervously. 

“He’s a weird guy, I don’t know,” he says, and changes the subject quickly, expression softening. “How are you?”

This question was not something Isak had prepared for - because despite the time, he knows Jonas won’t be happy with a one word answer - even if  _ fine _ is the best way to answer it. 

He shrugs instead. “I’m alright. I-“ he changes his mind. “You?”

Jonas narrows his eyes. “Yeah, I’m good. Same as always.”

There’s uncomfortable silence, and Isak is ready for someone to ask for another drink again, but no one does.

“Did you actually change your number?” Jonas asks after leaving the silence to stretch far too far, to build up in Isak’s throat like a sickness.

He looks pointedly at the floor. “No, I - I got your texts.”

There’s a pause. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No - no, it wasn’t you,” Isak says, pushing the certainty in his voice, because as much as he needs to be left alone, he doesn’t want Jonas thinking he did anything wrong. He can easily manage never seeing a single one of his old friends again, but he could never manage hurting them in the process. 

“Then what’s going on with you?”

The tension rises in his throat again. “What makes you think there’s anything wrong? I’m fine.”

“Isak -”

“Jonas, you haven’t seen me in nearly two years,” he keeps his voice level, but only because he’s working. Only because he doesn’t want to cause a scene. “I don’t know why you think there’s something wrong. We’ve just - moved on to different things. It happens.”

“But you -”

“I’ve just been busy,” he lies. “Sorry. It’s just how life goes sometimes.”

He’s interrupted, finally, by someone wanting another drink, and he turns away to get it, fixing his smile as he does. He notices Even walk back over to his seat, but when he turns back, they’ve both left, leaving a piece of paper behind them.

_ You have my number if you ever want to talk. Sorry if I was too pushy. Just miss you, bro <3 _

He doesn’t throw it away like he should.

*

It stays on his kitchen table for three days, until, on sunday he picks up his phone, and the note, and takes it into the other room, and puts it instead on his coffee table. 

He stares at it for a while, and stares at Jonas in his contacts for a while, alternating between the two until he's almost dizzy.

Rational thought is telling him that he's better off without, that he's too out of control with people in his life - but the rest of his thoughts remind him how fucking lonely he is, and how much he misses Jonas. 

He compromises between the extremes - he can text Jonas, but they don't have to meet. It's the easiest option. 

_ Thanks for the note- _ he starts to type, and deletes it immediately. 

This is a bad idea. He's better off alone. If he lets people in, they'll start trying to direct him, try to take over and do what's best for him when they don't know what he needs because he's in control, or he has been before they came along. 

It's just what he knows will happen. 

He's fine without it. 

*

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to get back in touch with Jonas - no one else, just Jonas.

Every possible path he could take seems to make his chest constrict in one way or another - he could go back to his routine, to his control, but he seizes up with loneliness. He could get in touch with old friends, but he tightens with apprehension, considering how it could go wrong.

Jonas could count as some sort of halfway point. A compromise - but even that makes his chest feel uncomfortable. 

He's going to visit his mum tomorrow - but maybe he should just go today instead. After all, tomorrow makes it two years. His dad might be there, and if there's one thing Isak wants to avoid more than anything it's being with his mum while his dad is there, even if the likelihood of his dad actually bothering is low. 

He just - he really needs her, right now. And it's true that he's doing the horrible thing of not appreciating her until it's too late, but - 

When he was little, and they were a halfway happy family, the four of them in the house that Isak hates so much now, she was his best source of comfort. She would be now, if she was still here. 

When he was little, If he had ever been injured while running around the garden too fast, or if those older kids ever teased him enough to make him cry, she would stroke his hair, and rock him back and forth, and let him hold on to her as tight as he could. 

And, even when he was older, and claimed he wanted nothing to do with her - when he thought she might want nothing to do with him, she told him “I will love you forever.”

He's lost count of how many times he's gone back to that message in his phone. 

It's a familiar walk. Cold, but bearable, even when he has to bury his hands in his pockets because he forgot his gloves yet again. The pavement is frosty, but not icy, so he doesn't have to carefully watch every step to make sure he won't fall. 

He debates with himself for a moment about whether it's too cold to sit on the grass as he normally does, but aside from his fingers, he's wrapped up warm enough to stand it for a little while. Just while he smokes. 

He considers, for a moment, why the fuck it is that he’s here. Why he comes here every month, just to sit on some grass and smoke some cigarettes that he doesn’t even fucking like. He’s not religious. He doesn’t really believe that his mum is still here - and if she were anywhere, she’d be inside the church next door, or back at home - two places that Isak point blank refuses to go. 

He doesn’t feel close to her here. He just feels fucking cold, and his throat hurts from the smoke. 

But there’s something - through his anger, through his desperation - that makes him stay where he is. 

It’s not her. She doesn’t exist anymore.

But it’s a comfort. This is part of his routine. This is how he stays in control, grounds himself. reminds himself of his mum, because sometimes it doesn’t hurt - maybe today isn’t one of those days, but there are some. And he can look around the cemetery and let his mind wander, imagine that he knows the stories behind everyone here. Thinks about the flowers - or lack thereof - on each of the graves.

There’s no forget-me-nots on June Naesheim’s today. And Isak thinks some more, wondering why that seems off, when he realises - today is the second. Maybe he’ll -

“Thought you said you didn’t smoke.”

The first thing he notices, when he turns, is forget-me-nots. 

The second thing is that the person holding them is Even.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooooooooo sorry this took a wee minute i promised myself i would work on other fics first and then skam france???? happened???? im crying?????  
> anyway enjoy, feel free to come and yell at me about skamfr on tumblr @evenshands (or about skam og, always down for both)

This is the sort of thing that gets in his head. The fact that months, years, even sometimes a whole life's worth of memories of a place or a person can become tainted by one event. 

Isak can't go home without thinking of how his mum died. He can't walk past his old university building without remembering the day he got his dad’s text. He can’t think about Lea without thinking of the day she left them, left him alone with his parents in that suffocating house.

And he imagines it's probably the same for his old friends, too. Meeting Eva a few weeks ago was - nice? - but he knew every time he looked at her, that she was still thinking of him as someone to pity because his mum died and he had a fucking breakdown about it. 

And Jonas. Isak can't see Jonas without knowing that he doesn't need him anymore, he's moved on, he's replaced Isak. There's someone better with a wider smile and a lighter heart and he brightens the fucking room like Isak never has. 

Isak’s certain that he won't be able to come back to this graveyard now that he knows Even has been here. 

And he's acting as though they're friends.  _ Thought you said you didn't smoke _ . 

Thought you were meant to be off across Oslo hanging out with Isak’s old friends. 

He doesn't say that, of course. He turns back away, and brings the cigarette to his lips again with a defiant “I don't” before taking another drag.

Even has the nerve to fucking laugh, and sit beside Isak as if he was invited to. Isak does nothing to invite conversation, either, but Even talks anyway.

“Your mum?” he asks, gesturing forwards. 

Isak shrugs. “Jonas told you?” 

_ See? _ He's just the guy whose mum died. The guy to feel sorry for. 

Isak doesn't turn towards Even, too busy controlling his breathing, but he sees the sad smile out of the corner of his eye anyway. Fucking  _ sympathy. _

“He talks about you a lot.”

“Great,” Isak uses the steady, bored tone to cover up the fact that he's kind of blindsided by this response. Logically, maybe he shouldn't be. Jonas visited him at work, and his words  _ desperately trying to get back in contact with you  _ echo around his head, but it's one thing for him to hear it from Jonas and something else to hear it from Even. It makes him seem less like a replacement, somehow. More like someone filling a different space in the group, and maybe the space Isak left is still there. 

Maybe he really should talk to Jonas. 

Or change the subject - Even does it for him.

“Two years?” he asks, and Isak shrugs again, trying to stop his eyes straying up to see the dates on the grave, because he knows that’s where Even’s looking, and he doesn’t want to look where Even’s looking. “Anniversaries always suck,” Even continues, and his voice is steady, and his gaze is steady, and Isak’s anger levels are decidedly fucking not steady. 

“How would you know?” he barely stops himself from snapping. “You were what, five?”

He forgets that he’s not supposed to know who Even is here to see, but it’s too late now. Even doesn’t seem bothered by that, though. He simply huffs out another laugh - a more humourless one, this time. Isak is just happy that it’s working - that soon enough Even will want to stay away from him.

“Seven,” Even corrects. “But you’re right. I was too young to understand.”

“I -” Isak’s mouth goes dry. Not by choice - but he hears the emotion behind Even’s words, and no matter how much he tells himself that he doesn’t know or care about Even well enough to understand him, it stops him in his tracks. “Who was she?” he asks quietly, still not looking at Even, but getting the sense that he’s someone who likes to talk about it. Isak’s had plenty of practice at letting people talk about it.

“My aunt. But I always thought she was more like my best friend.”

Isak doesn’t answer. He knows Even will keep talking, and he doesn’t have to listen - but, whether out of choice or by accident, he does.

“She lived with us for most of my life. Mum’s family are all from the country, but June wanted to go to school in Oslo, so she stayed with us.” He smiles, a sad smile. Isak remembers too late that he wasn’t going to look at him. “She always told me I was the only thing that made her life bearable.”

“Pretty heavy thing to tell a seven year old.” 

“I didn’t care. I thought she was awesome - but at the time I didn’t realise that she actually wasn’t very well.” He pauses. “I didn’t find out how she actually died until I was, like,  sixteen.”

Isak doesn’t ask, but he has a horrible feeling that he knows anyway, and there’s no good response to it. He knows that much, because everything people said to him was wrong too. 

He just doesn’t speak. He’s good at that - Even isn’t.

“It still sucks on anniversaries, though,” he says. “Even when I was a kid. Especially now that it’s been a while, so sometimes the anniversary happens and I don’t realise until later than I should, and then the guilt is fucking intense.”

Isak knows guilt. He can’t imagine that a little more when he inevitably forgets a date will hurt that much. 

“I get the sense that you aren’t very talkative.” 

He takes a drag of his cigarette before answering. 

“I get the sense that I wouldn’t help anything by talking.”

“For me, or yourself?”

Isak shrugs. 

“Have you ever talked about her? To anyone?”

It’s none of Even’s business whether he’s talked about her. He’s thought about her plenty. Isn’t that enough?

He could talk about her. About his memories of her when he was a kid, and the memories of her when they reconnected again. About the reason he’s smoking - that she smelt like these cigarettes, and how the best talks he had with her were on the balcony of his apartment with a cigarette in her hand before it all went to shit again.

He could talk about that. But he won’t, especially not to Even.

Even sighs, and Isak feels his eyes on him, feels his sympathy burning through the side of his head. But before Isak can tell him to stop, or leave, or something, he stands anyway. Isak glances up at him to see him taking a flower from the ones he has, and he reaches down to place it on Isak’s mum’s grave with a gentle smile at Isak.

Should Isak thank him? Because he’s not sure he knows how, even how to speak.

“See you around, Isak,” Even says, before walking away.

Isak gets up and leaves the moment he doesn’t feel frozen to the ground anymore.

*

**Dad (12:25):** _will you come with me to see your mother today?_

**Isak (14:33):** _ i went yesterday.  _

**Dad (14:34):** _ok._ _it would be nice to see you soon though._

He narrowly avoids replying with  _ get fucked. _

*

**Isak (15:33):** _are you free any time this week? wanna get kebab?_

**Jonas (15:42):** _ Yessss I'm always down for kebab. monday? _

**Isak (15:45):** _ Ait _

He's just grateful that Jonas doesn't make a big deal out of it. 

*

Jonas is waiting outside the shop for him with a huge grin on his face, and Isak tries to match it at least a little bit, though he knows he doesn't come close. 

“Hi,” Isak says. 

“Hey, man,” Jonas grins, pulling him into a one armed hug. “I am so pumped for kebab, no one else seems to like getting kebab with me any more, I tell you, it's heartbreaking.”

It feels almost normal already, to be here with Jonas, following familiar footsteps getting kebab, taking it outside to the park, and sitting side by side on the bench in that familiar way. It was on this bench that he first came out to Jonas all that time ago, this bench that, if they had each been swamped by exams or homework or other life things, they would meet, on friday, and they would get kebab and they would talk, even if they could only stay for half an hour.

it was an easy place to be, because he never had to look at Jonas as he told him what was going on, if there was anything. They never had to make eye contact - which Isak had always found to be the hardest part of talking.

Jonas is telling him about the workload at uni, how impossible it is now that he's doing a masters. How he barely has time for anything anymore, and Isak tries not to let himself feel guilty about that, about how Jonas is wasting his little time on this. 

He tries for all of five seconds, before he gives up and lets guilt put its heavy hands all over him, while he acts as if nothing is wrong. 

“But this is so nice, though,” Jonas says. “It's so fucking good to see you, Isak.”

Isak misses the days when this would calm him down, cut through the guilt and make him breathe, but those days are gone. He just laughs half heartedly and tries to change the subject. 

“Do you still skateboard? Or do you have no time for that either?”

“Mm, not as much as I used to. Most of the guys stopped going so it's kinda awkward being at the skatepark with a bunch of fucking teenagers.”

Isak laughs. “Yeah, I can imagine.”

There's silence for a while.

“God, it's fucking cold,” says Jonas eventually. 

“Yeah,” Isak laughs. Even after remembering his gloves for once, the cold is reaching through to his fingertips and making him feel as though they'll fall off. 

“We could go back to mine?” Jonas says. “Play video games or something?”

This is where Isak should call it a day. They've had kebab, they've talked, they've reconnected enough. It's time to go. 

“I think my place is closer, if you want to go there instead?”

It doesn't feel like loneliness is getting the better of him. It feels like maybe this is what he needs. He can't even see himself regretting it later. (Not that he doesn't know he will. He's just letting his impulsive brain, his fucking feelings take over for a while.)

“Only if you have FIFA,” Jonas teases. 

Isak grins.

*

His apartment’s a mess. It's not something he ever thinks about, because no one ever comes round to see it.

Jonas doesn't seem to care, though. He simply flops himself down on the sofa and says “damn bitch, you live like this?” and Isak rolls his eyes at the reference, before starting to feel at ease. 

It's strange, having someone in his space after so long with only occasional visits from his landlord. He notices the little things that he doesn't usually care about, the dust on the boxes of his mums stuff, the part of the sofa where he always sits, where the cushions are so worn down it's noticeable, the piles of crap everywhere in the room, everywhere except around the drum kit.

“You been playing?” Jonas asks after they've made themselves comfy with drinks on the sofa.

“Yeah, here and there,” Isak says noncommittally.

“It's Lea’s set, right? Where is she now?”

Isak shrugs. “Last I heard she was in Berlin, but that was nearly two years ago, so.”

“She's not speaking to you again?”

“Haven't tried. I just know she doesn't want to come back, not after - yeah.”

Jonas gives him a look of sympathy, and Isak is quick to move the conversation forward, hurrying to the TV and picking up FIFA.

“Wanna play?” he asks, trying to smile. 

It's a good thing Jonas understands when to let a subject drop.

*

They play in silence for a while - near silence, with only an occasional outburst of game-themed abuse from one to the other. 

But they reach the end of a match, and Jonas leans back on the sofa, letting his controller drop to the side.

“Me and the guys are going out this Friday, if you want to join,” Jonas says. “Don't know what we're doing yet, but we're just going to meet at Mahdi’s and see what happens.”

“I'm working,” Isak says without having to think about it - but when he does think about it, after he answers, he knows it's the right thing. Jonas was the compromise. He can't see the others, not yet, or not ever - he doesn't know for sure. And anyway, the guys. Who are the guys, now? 

Isak has a sneaking feeling that it includes Even. And he can't handle that. He just can't. 

“Oh, right, yeah,” Jonas says. “Damn.”

*

He forgets that he was even invited until they show up at the bar on friday. 

All four of them.

Alex is serving another customer, too, so it has to be Isak to say hi to them all, and welcome them in with a fake fucking smile and try not to look at Even because he knows he can't act that well.

Thankfully, it's Friday. It's busy in the bar, and there's no room for four of them to sit on bar stools. All of them except Jonas go and find a table, while Jonas comes to the bar, with a guilty smile. 

“I know you're busy,” he starts with, and Isak flicks an eyebrow up. “But we thought we'd come and have a drink here and say hi.”

Isak shakes his head, rolling his eyes in exasperation - and some fondness. “You aren't getting free beers again.”

“Damn,” Jonas says. “Guess we'll be going.”

“Sure.” 

Jonas reaches over the bar and punches him in the shoulder. 

Isak smiles - maybe it's even a real smile. He finds the courage to look over to Magnus and Mahdi, and gives them a casual salute. Even is facing away, and doesn't turn when Magnus and Mahdi smile back. 

If he was good at not being bothered, he wouldn't even care whether Even looked round or not, but he can't help but think about what Even knows about him. What he's seen of him, in the cemetery. It's just too close for comfort, the fact that Even has seen him there. 

But he gets the four drinks, hands them all to Jonas, and doesn't even flinch when it's Even that comes over to help carry them to the table. 

He really doesn't have much time to talk, though. It's a busy evening, and he only has so many times he can stop and speak to one of them when they walk up to the bar and ask how Isak is doing, 

He catches Even looking. Maybe it's nothing, maybe he happened to catch his line of sight at the same time, or something. But he catches Even looking, and he wants to - he doesn't know. He doesn't like it. 

They only stay an hour, and they leave, with Jonas promising to see him again soon, and the others just saying goodbye. 

*

On Tuesday, Even comes to the bar. 

Alone. 

It's late enough that Alex has already gone - past 11 in the evening, and it's dying down for the night, because it's fucking Tuesday, and no one comes to a bar alone on a Tuesday unless they're fucking lonely or an alcoholic. 

It's none of Isak’s business why they're here. Sometimes they tell him anyway, but it doesn't mean he should know. 

Even wants to talk. Isak can just see it in his smile. There's an almost unignorable urge inside him to tell Even  _ we aren't friends _ if only it wouldn't be unprofessional. 

(He might anyway.)

He settles with the usual  _ what can i get you _ , and tries not to seem bothered by any of this as he gets Even his beer.

There are four other people at the bar. Three sitting at a table and chatting, friends catching up with each other. One at the bar, trying to drown himself in his drink, and doing anything to avoid conversation (Isak tried, even before Even arrived. He asked if the guy was okay, and all he got was a frown and a shrug and a general overwhelming vibe to  _ fuck off _ .)

Isak hands Even his drink, and starts to tidy the bar - double tidy the bar. He already tidied it. But he may as well do it again. There's nothing else to stop Even from trying to talk to him.

And even that doesn't work. He gets too close to Even while wiping down the surface, and can't do anything to stop it. 

“How are you?”

It's strange. Isak’s usually the one asking that. Not many people return the question. Less still are the first to ask it, but it's how Isak likes it. 

“Good thanks, you?”

Even doesn't brighten the room so much when he's alone. Maybe he's not trying, or maybe he's tired - at 11PM on a tuesday, who isn't? But it makes him easier, when he just gives a half smile and a nod, and a quiet “yeah, okay, thanks.”

Isak doesn't know what to do with it still. How to react, more than a stilted nod of his own, as he clears his throat and goes back to the task at hand. 

Of course, it doesn't end there. It never does.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Even says, hesitant. 

_ Why? _

“I - I think I might have made you uncomfortable at the cemetery.”

Isak is polite because he has to be. “You didn't. Don't worry about it.” It's probably where Isak should also apologise for some of the shit he said, too, but he doesn't want to.

“But - look,I know I don't know you, really, but if it were me, it's the sort of thing that would make me never go back to that place again, just in case I ran into someone there.”

Well. He didn't need to read Isak’s mind. That's just fucking unfair. 

“And,” Even continues. “I don't know if you feel like you can't hang out with the guys if i'm there. I just -”

“That's nothing to do with you.”

He's both gentle and harsh with his response, unsure whether he's comforting Even or just trying to shut him up. 

“Okay,.”

“Seriously. I don't hang out with them because we've moved onto different things. And I don't care about the cemetery. I wasn't gonna go anymore anyway.”

“Why?”

There's something in Even’s response, maybe the speed at which he asks it, catching Isak by surprise, that pulls the truth out from him before he can hold it back. 

“She isn't there any more. It's just some weird comfort thing. Going to some stupid stone in the ground with some- it's just a waste of time.”

He shrugs and turns away when it dawns on him what he's saying, then he looks at the time, and breathes a sigh of relief. It's closing time - near enough. He has an excuse to get out of this situation. And he's damn well going to use it. 

Even doesn't protest about leaving. It's a small mercy, and it's been such a quiet night that it doesn't take long at all before he's locking up, heading out the back, ready to walk home with his hands deep in his pockets because he never fucking remembers his gloves. 

He doesn't imagine anyone would wait outside in the cold for nearly an hour to continue a conversation that was never going anywhere, but -

Even is outside. Isak should've fucking known. 

“Isak-”

“You're not a customer anymore,” Isak says. “I don't have to be fucking nice to you.”

“Then don't be,” Even says, barely fazed by the response although Isak was far harsher than he meant to be. “Just - be honest with me.”

Isak turns his eyes up to the sky in frustration. “I was. I don't get what you want.”

Even sighs. “I don't know. I - maybe I'm projecting. You just seem like you - I don't know.”

“Projecting?” 

“Yeah,” Even says, looking down at his feet. “Like, I think you're sad, but maybe it's just me.”

“I'm not sad.”

He's not. He's been sad, sure. He's been angry and he's been frustrated and upset and - he's been everything. But he's settled. Maybe the last few weeks have shifted the ground beneath him a little, bit he refuses to concede to it, refuses to let that mean he's become unsettled again. 

He's fine. 

“I'm fine.”

He sees Even’s eyebrows twitch as if he wants to raise them, but a second passes and he's passive again. As though he believes Isak. 

“Okay.”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry.”

Isak shrugs. “It's fine.”

He turns back to the door behind him, double checking that it's locked, and then moves to walk away, alone, before Even speaks again.

“You don't have gloves?”

“Forgot them.”

“You can borrow mine?” He asks it as if it would be Isak doing him a favour, and not the other way around. 

“What about you?”

“I have a spare pair.”

“Why?”

Even shrugs, and holds out a pair of gloves - while already wearing some, so he wasn't lying. Isak doesn't know why he would think that Even is lying, but it definitely feels like something he would do.

“How will I give them back?”

“Give them to Jonas next time you see him.”

“Okay.”

Even gives him a weak smile. “Bye,” he starts to walk off. 

Isak wants to ask him if he's one of those people that isn't happy unless they help other people, until he realises he knows the answer, and he doesn't want to know the answer that Even would give instead.

He has a horrible feeling that he won't give the gloves to Jonas, but the feeling doesn't tell him whether it'll be by choice.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOPS im so sorry for the wait, i have no excuse but i hope you all enjoy!!!

Isak knows he's selfish. He's had plenty of guilt from it before, and he knows he will again.

Usually it's more - deserved than this, though. This time it's guilt from just a single throwaway comment that Isak should have reacted to, and he didn't, and now it's everywhere in his head. Something about Even saying he was projecting. That he thought Isak was sad, but _“maybe it’s just me.”_

Isak should have picked up on it. Should have responded. Should have cared, but he's never been good at that.

And he doesn't want to be. He doesn't have something - time, energy, space in his head or his routine for that. He doesn't want to care, and he doesn't know Even well enough anyway, so even if he did care, it wouldn't matter. He doesn't know him.

 

*

 

Even crosses his mind so many times over the course of the next few days that he wonders if his mind is playing a cruel trick on him.

But it's not like there's anything he can do about it. He can't text him. He can't visit him. He can’t hang around the cemetery in hopes that Even might show up, just so that Isak can give the gloves back, and ask if he's okay.

Besides, how could someone like that not be perfectly fucking happy? With his laugh, and his energy, and the way he brightens up the fucking room. No one could do that and be fucking sad. Isak couldn't do that, even now, and he's not sad anymore. He may be settled, but he's fucking tired.

Sometimes he thinks that maybe he was sad for so long that it stole all of his energy and he still hasn't got it back. Or that it took all of the energy out of his apartment, and now he can never feel normal here.

If he leaves, he's fine. He can get to work, and he can smile and laugh for the customers, and maybe he even brightens their day a little. Never the whole room, but he's resigned himself to never being that person. It doesn't suit him.

When he goes out walking, he's fine. He can smile at people who pass him in the street, and he can breathe freely and properly.

There's some energy in drumming, but it's the only thing in his apartment that has any. Even coffee can't help. And he's kind of - stopped drumming again, too. He just can't be bothered.

He just watches netflix and plays video games and thinks that maybe he should care about something, but he doesn't.

Jonas. He kind of cares about Jonas.

That's enough.

 

*

 

 **Jonas (16:35):** _what days do you not work?_

 **Isak (17:02):** _sunday's and monday's usually, why?_

 **Jonas (17:04):** _Eva said Sana and Chris are home for a bit next week so she wanted us all to do something together_

 **Isak (17:09):** _like what?_

 **Jonas (17:11):** _i don't know, a meal or something probably_

_would you come if we did that?_

**Isak (17:18):** _i don't know_

_kinda difficult to fit it in around work_

_sorry_

**Jonas (17:20):** _no worries_

_i’ll let eva know anyway_

 

Isak doesn’t even know what the deal is with Jonas and Eva anymore. They didn’t talk about her when they met up, and Isak should have thought to ask about it. But he didn't, because he isn't a good person. He forgot to care.

Last he saw them, they were dancing around each other in the wake of their second breakup, promising that they had remained friends while every interaction they had was uncomfortable.

They must at least really be friends now, to be texting like this. Isak supposes it's a good thing. Even when he messed things up for them the first time - he never wanted them not to be friends.

Maybe he'll let Jonas talk about it the next time he sees him. If he wants to - but then, he didnt bring up her name once last week, so maybe he doesn’t. Want to, or need to, or - anything.

A lot of time has passed.

Isak can’t really fathom it. Sure, he lived through the two years too, but -

They were kind of a blur.

 

*

 

 **Jonas (15:34):** _monday, 7pm, kollektivet. you in?_

_eva will kill both of us if you say no_

Why are they so desperate to have him there all of a sudden? What - he says yes to meeting Jonas, once, and now suddenly he's expected to dive back into their “squad” or whatever? Why now? In the midst of all his calm, all of the space and time he's taken to heal, why are they so insistent on arriving and destroying his progress like this?

He just - he can't breathe around them. While he's there, it's fine, he acts on autopilot, but when he gets home, it's like he can hear all of them speaking to him at once, telling him what he should do, what he shouldn't, everything he did wrong and everything he needs to improve on. The walls close in while they talk, and it gets darker and closer and warmer and impossible to breathe, move, think.

He can't breathe.

He can't go.

He can't not go.

He can't reply.

 

*

 

He can't do anything.

 

*

 

He can sleep.

 

*

 

 **Isak (14:31):** _ok_

 **Jonas (14:32):** _sweeeeeeeeet_

_you don't have to stay long_

_but it'll be good to see you_

 

*

 

The world feels fucking tiny when he walks over to kollektivet on monday. The streets are so familiar, he's walked them so many times in his life, and it feels like no time passes before he arrives.

And it's the one time that he wanted the time to go slow. He's still processing what's going to happen, still running through the possibilities in his brain of what's going wrong and right and who he'll see and who's going to want to know what. He's practiced “yeah, i'm just still just working at the bar at the moment,” over and over in his head, but he can't imagine what else they'll ask him. He can't imagine what else he knows about himself.

He practises instead asking them things. Asking them what they're doing now, and what next, and all of that.

He runs into Magnus first, at the front of the building, and gets an enthusiastic bear hug that he might have been happier without.

“How are you, man?” Magnus has enough excitement for the two of them. Isak just hopes it's enough to mask his own lack of it.

“Good, yeah. You?”

“Yeah, great thanks! I just started a new job-”

He launches into a story, and no matter how many times Isak tells himself that he needs to care about this, he just can't. He listens, he thinks he asks the right questions, but he's not - he's not the one asking. It's just obligation, using him as a vessel.

They climb the stairs as Magnus talks, and soon find themselves at the already open door of the kollektiv, voices floating through to signal that everyone is already there.

Isak looks at his watch. _19:14_. He’s not even that late - not late at all, really, considering that no one ever arrives on time for these things - or, clearly they do now. That’s changed.

He hates nothing more than arriving into a room full of people. This is what he should have considered before he planned on what time to arrive, but it hadn’t occurred to him until now.

There’s still time to turn around, perhaps. While Magnus is kicking off his shoes, and Isak is frozen just outside the doorway, he could run. He could check his phone and find an excuse. He could -

“Isak!”

He could have.

Eva comes towards him, pulls him close in and tighter than he knows what to do with, but he still somehow feels himself relax in her arms.

“Hi, Eva,” he says, autopilot kicking in. “Good to see you.”

He takes his own shoes off, and allows himself to be pulled inside, trying not to react strangely to the chorus of welcomes from everyone already gathered.

It’s strange to see Sana again. Isak can’t help but remember how close they had been before she moved away for the second year of uni. She almost could have been the one friend he’d kept in touch with, sometimes felt like the one friend he wanted to talk to most, although she wasn’t there - or maybe _because_ she wasn’t there. He’s always been good at thinking that way, with, maybe if it were that person, it would have been okay, or maybe if it had been that day, or that place, it would have been different, it would have worked out.

In some other universe, it would have worked out better.

But it should have been this one.

Sana crosses the room towards him, takes one look at him, then pulls him down into a hug.

“Good to see you, Isak,” she says, smiling.

“Good to see you too,” Isak says, knowing that he sounds vastly confused but unable to stop it. “I don’t remember you being a hugs person.”

Sana raises her eyebrows. “I am when I don’t see my best bud for two years.”

“Oh, _now_ you admit it?”

“Yeah, now I admit it,” she smiles so big now, it’s hard to remember her as the Sana he knew. “How are you?”

There’s the question. It might be Sana that he’s talking to, but he switches back onto autopilot.

 

*

 

He doesn’t hate the evening, but then, he never expected to hate it while it was still happening. He’s still that version of himself that can get through it when he excuses himself to go the bathroom halfway through, when he stands in front of the mirror and stares himself down and breathes. The tightness that he knows in his chest won’t make a home there until he’s safe at home, but it gives him a taste of it while he’s alone.

He still hates walking into a room full of people even when it’s not people who don’t know he’s there. There’s no loud greeting, no overwhelming pressure to glance around the room and take everything in, notice everyone, smile at everyone.

But there’s still the fixed reaction pattern. Every pair of eyes in the room turning, their own mini autopilot, pale in comparison to Isak’s version of the evening, but far more aggressive. Trying to see who’s walking into the room, even though there are limited options. Isak’s whole body tenses and trembles as he sheepishly nods at everyone in the room, waiting for them to turn away again before he slumps down next to Jonas and exhales.

There’s comfort in the fact that Jonas doesn’t break out of his conversation as Isak arrives. Just a quick nod to Isak, and that’s all he needs.

It’s only when a lull in the conversation arrives that Isak thinks to say it. Thinks to dig his hand in his pocket for his phone, unexpectedly brushing past the pair of gloves there - his own gloves this time, but he still has some at home that aren’t his.

The autopilot betrays him.

“Where’s Even?” he asks without thinking, without the logic catching up to him that this is a reunion of school friends, not just any party.”Doesn’t he usually hang out with you guys?”

Jonas looks at him with the same confusion with which he would look at himself.

“He wasn’t invited to this, though, bro,” Jonas says, smile more patient than Isak deserves but he still takes the relief that it gives him. “I didn’t think you liked him that much, anyway?”

“Huh?”

There’s that spark of guilt again. Does he really act that badly around Even?

“You two just don’t seem to get along,” Jonas explains. “I mean, he’s always asking about you anyway, but - I don’t know.”

Isak hesitates for a moment, before shrugging it off. “He’s fine. I just - I have his gloves. I need to give them back to him.”

Jonas reacts with confusion again. Isak knows he never makes sense.

“Why do you have them?”

“He, uh,” Isak searches for an excuse. “Remember that time you all came to the bar?”

Jonas nods.

“Yeah, he left them then.”

There’s a hint of disbelief in Jonas’s expression now, but he doesn’t explain it. He shrugs. “Oh, right. You can give me them, if you like? I can get them back to him.”

“I don’t have them with me right now.”

Why had he even brought it up?

“Okay. Uh, well, Give me them next time? Or you could always take them to him. He works at the KB near Nissen, or I could give you his address.”

Isak shakes his head. “I’ll work something out, thanks.”

Having Even’s address is a route he will never go down.

So is going to find him where he works. Probably.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is also known as the chapter where rino gets bored of the slowburn  
> sorry for the wait but as always enjoy!!!

Isak likes walking. 

He just - he’s always liked it. There’s a tranquility that comes with it, one foot in front of the other until he doesn’t know where he is anymore, or who he is, or why it matters. 

It’s just nice. Especially in the dark, where he can switch off, and he’s free - and he knows that Sana would have something to say about that, Noora too, probably. He can hear them now  _ “this is what male privilege looks like”  _ and he knows, and he knows it sucks, but.

He likes walking, and he likes the dark. It’s the only place he knows how to breathe, where the air he takes into his lungs isn't stagnant. 

From his apartment, it’s a twenty minute walk to Nissen. From Nissen, it's two minutes to the KB. He needs the air, and he might as well take the gloves. It's not dark, but it won't be open when it's dark, besides, Isak will be at work when it’s dark. 

Okay. It's thirty minutes. He knew that all along. he just thought maybe he'd be able to walk faster to get it over with. 

At least he doesn't have any particular attachment to this place. No memories, no feelings, no disruption. Not yet, anyway. Give it ten minutes. Give it until he sees Even. 

He starts by glancing through the window, staying quiet outside, still enough so as not to draw attention. Even is there, behind the counter, smiling, happy, lighting up the room. Same as always but - now that Isak thinks about it, now that the idea is planted in his head, the  _ maybe it’s just me,  _ Even seems - strangely familiar. Isak almost sees himself - what he sees if he looks in the mirror at work, what he saw in the mirror at kollektivet. The false quality to the smile, the exhaustion in his eyes. 

But maybe Isak’s just projecting.

Even doesn't notice him from outside the window. If he did, he would see how long Isak hesitates before walking through the door, see the anxiety rushing through isak, see how many times his hands return to his pockets to double, triple, quadruple check that he has the gloves, the only reason he's here. 

He does, obviously. 

Does he? 

Yeah. 

They might have fallen out of his pockets when he pulled his hand out from checking them last time, though.

They're still there. 

He ends up gripping them tight in his hand as he pushes the door open to the shop, then separating them so that he has one in each hand, just to be sure he has both. 

There's no queue in the shop, it's not that time of day yet. Isak glances up to know that Even has seen him, then slides the gloves over the counter. 

“Uh, hi, Jonas told me where you work so - uh, thanks for letting me borrow them last time.”

He looks up again, for Even’s reaction. It's as he thought, just a smile, a friendly fucking light up the room sort of smile, Isak hates it but, when he thinks about it, Even seems - 

Isak’s projecting again. 

“Anyway, thanks, I, uh, have to go.” He starts to turn, but Even speaks first. 

“Can I not get you a drink? “ he asks. “On me, as a thanks for bringing the gloves back.”

“But they’re - they're your gloves. “

“But you didn't have to go out of your way to bring them.”

“It's not - it's not out of my way, much,” Isak lies. 

“It's not?”

Isak shrugs. 

Even smiles differently this time. Not a bright fucking maybe-fake smile. It's shy, this time, gentle. Hopeful, friendly still but in a much more bearable way. 

“You should swing by more often, then, “ he says. “I can get you more free coffee.”

“But you didn't - ” Isak cuts himself off before he can embarrass himself,and forces out a huff of self conscious laughter. “Is this so you'll get free beers?”

That's worse than what he started to say in the first place. He basically just invited Even back to the bar. Fuck.  _ Fuck.  _

Even is patient with him, though. Maybe he realises that Isak didn't really mean to say it. 

“Would it work?” he asks. 

Isak is stumped for what to say at first, and doesn't reply for a few seconds, by which time Even is speaking again of his own accord. 

“Tell you what,” he says. “You can have free coffee now, for bringing the gloves back. If you come in again, I'll keep a score and I'll come and get the beers you owe me sometime.”

At least there's an out. If Isak never comes back here again - or not if, but - Even won't come to the bar if Isak doesn't give him a reason to. 

“Okay,” he finds himself agreeing. “Why would I say no to free coffee?”

 

*

 

He has to turn the TV up loud to drown out his thoughts when he gets home. Looks towards the drum kit once, twice, three times, before deciding he has no energy for that. Instead, his fist drums mercilessly against his leg in a manner that will almost certainly leave a bruise that he won’t be able to stop himself from pressing into. 

Even through all of this,  the sound and the light and the pain, he doesn't stop overanalysing every move he made earlier in KB. Every smile, every word, everything. The looks Even gave him quickly morph into judgement, his friendliness into laughter at Isak’s expense, his kindness into sympathy.

Isak hates sympathy.

There’s still an hour before he has to leave for work, too. He can’t handle another hour of this. He doesn’t know how.

But he needs food before he can go out to work, and to make food, he has to deal with himself for a while. Sometimes the fact that he’s doing something helps, but most of the time, it doesn’t. Times like these, definitely not. 

But he can just go to McDonalds or something, on his way to work. It doesn’t really matter if he’s there early. It’s a good distraction.

 

*

 

**Sana (20:08):** Can we meet up before I go back to uni?

Miss my best bud <3

**Isak (14:03):** hey, sorry i was at work last night so i didnt see this

how long are you here? 

**Sana (14:31):** Just until sunday, are you free at all? I know you work a lot.

**Isak (15:26):** i don’t start work until the evening, so we could meet in the afternoon sometime

**Sana (15:34):** Okay, friday?

**Isak (15:36):** okay :)

 

*

 

She really is happier. It’s like she's been able to let go of everything that happened at school, or at least, work through it. They didn't get to talk much on Monday, she was the centre of attention for everyone there, and Isak was trying to blend into the sofa. 

She's stressed, of course. A degree in medicine would stress anyone out, even Sana. 

“You would be good at it, you know,” she says gently, reminding Isak of why he doesn't talk to people anymore. 

“What,” he half laughs, “studying in a different language? I think my brain would explode.”

She tilts her head at him with an exasperated eyeroll. “Medicine, or just uni in general,“ she says. “Did you never consider going back?”

“Considered it, yeah,” Isak replies. “I just don't think that's me anymore. I'm too lazy,” he jokes, but she doesn't laugh. 

“You're only lazy when you feel like you're stuck somewhere.”

Issk flicks an eyebrow up. “You sure you're not studying psychology?”

Sana gives her signature sly smile. “I just know things,” she says. 

“I disagree,” Isak says. He can feel himself start to get defensive, to put up walls between him and Sana, but he doesn't want her to know that, so he keeps his tone light, teasing. “I'm lazy because I'm lazy. It's a much easier life.”

Sana presses her lips together, but doesn't push the subject. Instead, she sighs, and switches it. “So what else is new?”

Isak shrugs. “Nothing much. I told you, I'm lazy. What else is new with you?”

Sana thinks for a moment. “Yousef is taking me to Turkey this summer.”

“For the first time?”

“Yeah.”

“Took him long enough. He said he'd take you, what, three years ago?”

“Yeah, but he didn't say imminently.”

“Sure, sure,” Isak says, one eyebrow raised. “Any occasion for him finally taking you?”

“None that I'm aware of,” Sana says, in a tone that implies something else entirely. 

Isak smiles. “I'm happy for you,” he says, and means it. 

“I don't know what you're talking about,” says Sana. She looks down for a second, smiling too big to hide it, but becomes serious after a second, and looks back up. “You know what’s weird? Yousef’s best friend from school hangs out with Jonas now.”

Isak raises an eyebrow passively as his heart sinks to his stomach. Maybe it’s someone else that she’s talking about, but Isak suspects his luck doesn’t stretch that far.

“Have you met him? He’s called Even. He went to Bakka with Yousef.”

“Yeah, we’ve met,” Isak has to force the next sentence out, although it’s not a lie. “He’s nice.”

“You don’t like him?”

“Huh? I just said he’s nice!”

Sana hums, a teasing smile settling on her face again. “You don’t sound like you mean that, though.”

“No I- I do, “ Isak struggles to wrestle with his thoughts long enough for them to make sense and form truthful sentences. “He is nice. It was - it was weird to see him hang out with Jonas but - he seems like a good person.”

He's not sure where that came from, but, actually, it's kind of true. 

Sana smiles. “He is.”

 

*

 

Isak doesn't sleep when he gets home from work on Saturday morning. 

It'd be easy to blame it on the fact that he's been meeting up with so many people recently, shifting his life so far out of balance that it's beyond recognition, but - there's really only one thought that's swirling round and round his head. 

He wants to go back to KB. 

Really, genuinely,  _ wants  _ to. 

Maybe it’s a tired thought, a near-sleep-deprivation one, but it’s strong. Strong enough to stop him sleeping for a while, long enough that he gets bored and picks up his phone to distract his thoughts with a mindless game or something.

In doing so, he notices the date, under the time.  _ 05:47, saturday, march 2nd _ . 

He’s going to see his mum tomorrow. Although he said he wouldn’t, the thought of actually missing it makes his chest feel uncomfortably tight. 

And it was only Even that he told he wouldn’t, Even doesn’t matter. And he won’t know, anyway, he’ll be there today, not tomorrow -

He’ll be there today. Isak can’t understand his brain well enough to know how that makes him feel.

He just slams his phone back down, pulls his pillow over his head to block out his own thoughts, and tries again to sleep.

 

*

 

He gives up four hours later, and gets up, glancing around his apartment for a way to fill the time, but his fridge has enough in it to last another week, and he has no energy for tidying. 

He glances to the TV, then to his laptop on the coffee table. Then over to the drum kit. Everything seems so fucking dull, and before he knows it, he’s at the door, pulling on his shoes and jacket, making sure his gloves are in his pocket in case he needs them.

He doesn’t know where he’s intending to go, but he has a feeling he knows where he’ll end up, and he can decide on the way whether he wants to be there.

It's a nice day, despite the cold. The sun is out, and there's no wind or rain to speak of. Isak almost smiles as he walks. 

He grows apprehensive as he gets closer to the cemetery, though  What sort of decision was this that he made, why did he think he should come here? Even surely won't want to see him, he hasn't even apologised for being rude the time Even came to the bar - not that he wants to, really, but he knows he should. And he does - kind of - feel sorry about it. He meant to mention it at KB but it just went out of his head with all the other overwhelming thoughts while he was there. 

He arrives at the cemetery, though, and it's empty. At least, Even isn't there - yet, or maybe he's not coming at all. 

Isak slumps down onto the cold ground in front of his mum's grave, a familiar place, comforting enough to lift some weight off his shoulders somehow. 

He's not alone for long. His gaze is fixed down at the grass he's tearing up when he feels someone sit quietly beside him. 

“Do you ever tell the truth?” Even asks him, without a greeting. There's a teasing lilt to his tone, and Isak doesn't even feel defensive at it. 

“Why would I do that?” He tries to hide his smile, really he does, but in the end he only manages it by looking away. 

“So that I know what to expect from you?” Even suggests. “Or do I just have to be on my guard at all times?”

Isak could reply to that, start some sort of back and forth with Even, but he's not sure he would say the right thing. 

“I'm sorry for what I said the other week,“ he says instead, and he knows it's out of nowhere but if he forgets to say it again he doesn't know what shit his brain will throw at him. “When you came to the bar. I didn't mean to be a dick.”

“You did,“ smiles Even. “But don't worry, I didn't take it personally.”

“I-”

“It's okay,” Even tells him. “Really. I'm just glad you came back here.”

Issk breathes out, and all his tension goes with it. “Yeah,” he agrees. “So am I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u lovelies for reading! comments and kudos and all that jazz are always appreciated!   
> im on [tumblr!](http://evenshands.tumblr.com)  
> love always xxx


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been interacting with people all week so its very natural that i feel inspired for this now.  
> hope u enjoyo big loves\\(^w^)/

They sit there for longer than Isak thinks they should, but less time than he wants to. 

After the first exchange, they stay in silence for a while, Isak still ripping up the grass in front of him, staring down at the floor in case he ruins anything by looking elsewhere.

Eventually, though, he gets curious about the world continuing around him. His eyes stray upwards from the ground until his head isn’t bowed anymore, and he’s looking at his mother’s name, and, after a second, he’s looking at Even out of the corner of his eye.

What had he said? That Isak should talk about her?

Maybe his recent lack of control over his life has messed with his head so much that he’s lost control of his impulses too.

“I miss her.”

His hands tense and shake at first, at the little hint of sympathy that appears on Even’s face, but - more than sympathy, there’s understanding. Isak holds on to that.

“You know when she - when she died, it felt like it was just as she was starting to get better. We were finally talking again, and she - she found a good therapist and stuff, but then - out of nowhere, she just, she disappeared for a few days, and - and then - she was gone.”

It’s already fucking impossible to breathe, saying all this. How was this supposed to fucking help? It just feels like there’s water in his lungs, filling them up, and if it dares to spill out of his eyes, he’ll just fucking  _ die _ of embarrassment. 

But he just gets shakier and shakier, as if something in him needs to break, he can’t just let it settle back down anymore, it’s gone too far for that now.

He clears his throat once, twice, covering his mouth with his hand, then pressing his hand into his eyes. 

Can he run? Can he just get up and leave, and never speak to Even again? Pretend this never happened?

There’s a featherlight touch on his shoulder before Even starts guiltily as Isak looks at him, pulling his hand back. 

“Sorry, I -” Even reaches out again. “Can I -?”

And all Isak can think of now is how nice it’s been, the last few times he’s seen his friends, to hug them, to have their arms around him. He can work on his impulse control later. When this is all over.

He leans into Even with the slightest of nods, and sees Even give the tiniest of smiles before his arm comes around Isak’s shoulders and he pulls him in close, tight, warm, safe.

It’s nothing compared to his mum, but it’s everything compared to no one. 

He catches up to himself a minute later, and pulls away, clearing his throat again and wiping his eyes in shame.

“I should be over this by now.”

Even’s hand takes a while to fall from his shoulder, and he speaks when it does.

“You don’t have to be.”

Isak’s fingers gravitate back to the ground, to the grass, to destruction.

“But I  _ was _ ,” he says, frustration slipping through the cracks in his voice. “I thought I was, but now-“

He wants to blame Even. That’s made it easier, over the last couple of months. Just to say  _ it’s because he’s here _ and have done with it, move on because he knows at least the problem isn't anything he can change.

He doesn’t really want to blame Even. Not anymore.

He just lets his shoulders sink, exhales, and doesn’t say anything else.

Minutes pass before Even fills the silence quietly, nervously.

“Do you want to go get coffee?” He becomes brave again after the first sentence is out. “There’s a KB across the road, and I have my staff discount.”

Isak looks at him, and hesitates.

“We can sit and drink it in complete silence, if you like. You just look like you could use some caffeine.”

Isak tries a laugh, and a shaky nod, and it works. Even grins, and starts to stand. In doing so, Isak notices the flowers that he’s still holding

“Wait, don’t you want to-”

“Come with me?” Even’s voice is quiet again, hopeful.

“Okay.”

They walk together through the cemetery, past names that Isak knows well from his wandering mind.

For a while, they stand in silence, in front of the stone where Even places the flowers. Then, Isak looks at Even, unashamedly, without trying to hide any part of his gaze, or expression. 

“What was she like?” he asks, and watches the slow smile on Even’s face.

Even doesn’t look at Isak. His eyes stay fixed forward, he replies as if telling an audience. “She was - she was a lot of fun,” he says. “Always took me to the park and pushed me on the swings, even when I didn’t have a lot of friends my own age. And she was - she was patient with me, unlike everyone else. I mean, I had no attention span as a kid, I couldn’t focus on one thing for more than a minute at a time, but she would sit with me, and help me learn to read.” He finally looks up at Isak. “I don’t know if I would ever have learnt without her,” he laughs, and Isak smiles.

He even keeps the smile when Evens eyes meet his own. It feels a little strange, but when he pushes through the alien feeling, it feels nice, too. Smiling with Even. 

“So,” Even says eventually. “Coffee?”

Isak nods, then looks at his watch. There’s still hours to go before he has to be at work, and, to be honest, he’s not sure he wants to go back home for any longer than it’ll take him to get changed into his work clothes.

*

Even might have kept his word, had Isak not spoken. They spend the first five minutes sitting at a little table at the back of the KB, coffees cooling in front of them that they had each paid for themselves - no argument, just Isak buying his own, and Even understanding the subtext, the  _ I still don't owe you anything _ . 

Isak might burn his tongue to dispel the awkwardness. He tries talking instead. 

“I'm not, uh, very good at conversations,” he says, trying to explain himself before he even starts. 

A grin settles across Even’s face like it belongs there. “Maybe you just need to find something you want to talk about.”

“I thought we already established that I prefer not talking.”

The grin doesn't waver. “I gave you that opportunity, you're the one blowing it.”

“Okay.”

Isak burns his tongue. 

He tries not to show it, but Even sees. 

“Okay, to prevent further injury, how about we find something you do like talking about. I assume  _ how we're both doing _ is off the table.”

“Yeah,” Isak says, almost smiling. 

“Work and stuff gone too?”

“Mhm,” Isak agrees. 

“Okay,” Even pauses as if deep in thought. “Music? What do you listen to?”

“Whatever Spotify tells me to,” Isak shrugs. “Instrumental stuff, usually. Can't be bothered listening to people droning about being deeply in love or whatever it is.”

“You don't like love songs?”

“Does anyone? I mean, anyone who's not in love? They're vastly fucking exhausting.”

“Maybe you need to fall in love, then. Appreciate some of the classics.”

“Yeah, no.”

“Bad experiences?”

“Limited,” Isak corrects. “But not overwhelmingly positive.”

He supposes that this is the moment he should use to come out to Even, if Jonas or someone else (probably Magnus) hasn't already told him. The lull that he can use to his advantage to avoid any future awkward moments in case the conversation persists. 

It's not like it matters though. Two thirds of his relationships were with girls, and like he just told Even, he's no intention of  _ putting himself back out there  _ or falling in love any time soon. So who fucking cares if he doesn't actually fall for girls? He's not going to fall for anybody. And coming out is fucking exhausting. 

“You can still enjoy love songs, though.” Even says, and the opportunity passes anyway. 

“And if I don't want to?”

“Then you're missing out.”

Isak shrugs, and huffs a laugh. “I'll cope.” 

He forgets, again, to make conversation out of it. For a second, its uncomfortable, until Isak drags a question out of his mouth. 

“What music do you like?” It's halting, all kinds of unsure, but Even lights up - not the room, this time, but himself. Like he's so fucking excited that Isak is engaging. 

“Love songs,” Even grins, and Isak rolls his eyes, but ends it with a hint of a smile. 

“People who are in love are fucking annoying,” Isak says, because if  _ people in love _ isn't Even, maybe he'll agree - and if it is, he's in love. He can take a fucking joke - that shit seems to make you immune. 

“Who says I'm in love?” Even says, raising an eyebrow. 

“You just have bad taste in music, then?” Isak's never sure if teasing works for him, but then, he's still not sure if he'll mind Even working out that he's not a great person to be around. 

“The worst,” Even says happily. He always takes what shit Isak throws at him. It's fucking weird. “Gabrielle is on every one of my playlists.”

“Fucking _hell.”_

“I bet you like her, secretly,” Even teases. “Bet you dance to 5 Fine Frøkner when no one's watching. And you can't deny, Nattergal is a bop.”

“What fucking universe are you in?” The smile on Isak's face is wide, now, but it fades as he brings his own memories back with his words. 

Himself, seventeen years old, thinking about all the parallel universes - the infinity of everything, all the possibilities. His greatest source of comfort, when he felt like every choice he made was a nightmare and a mistake. But now - it's different. The universe seems more accountable for the shit it's put him through, laughing at him all the while for believing that things were looking up. 

He glances up to see Evens inquisitive look, noticing his sudden deflation in mood. 

Recently, he can’t stop words falling out around Even. 

“I used to be obsessed with parallel universes,” Isak says, staring down at the coffee in his hands as he takes a sip, painful against his already burnt tongue but at least a better temperature now. “I used to think, okay, this thing went wrong, but somewhere else in the multiverse it didn't. Somewhere, everything's okay.” 

Even doesn't respond with more than a small smile when Isak looks at him, not like Isak thought he would, so he continues speaking. 

“But now I just think - well, why couldn't it have gone right in this universe? Why did I have to end up in the shit version?”

“So you don't believe in them anymore?”

“No, I do. They exist, I just think they fucking suck.”

Even nods with a sad smile, as though he agrees, and Isak still doesn’t know if he wanted him to agree. 

“I never liked the idea of the multiverse,” Even says. “Always makes me feel kind of - small, like, insignificant.”

“Yeah,” Isak mumbles. “I never minded feeling small, though.”

“You didn’t?”

“It’s comforting,” Isak says simply.

“I think it’s lonely.”

Isak shrugs. “I don’t mind that either.”

“I don’t believe you.” 

Even says it so easily that Isak almost thinks he’s misheard, but when he turns to look at him, he knows he hasn’t.

“I know I'm saying too much. But I don't think you want to be lonely. I don't think anyone does. People just start feeling like they've got no other choice.”

Isak can feel himself prickling at Even’s words. Like his walls are growing, great barriers made of thorns around a castle in which he just wants to sleep. But before he can reply, before he can shut the conversation down, Even speaks again, and the quiet in his voice brings the walls down to dust. 

“I've been there,” he says simply, and, were it anyone else, saying it in a different way, or with a different expression, Isak would scoff. Isak would know that they don't really get it, they're just saying it to get him to talk. But something about Even - maybe after seeing him earlier, at his aunt’s grave, or after overthinking every smile, every word because  _ maybe he's projecting  _ \- it just reaches him. There's some understanding there. 

It's the universe's cruelest joke that  _ this  _ is where he found it. In the guy who replaced him, the guy who lights up the room like Isak never could. 

Even takes Isak's silence and fills it, because he's good at that. “I got diagnosed with depression when I was sixteen, and bipolar when I was eighteen. I didn't think anyone could love me - and I certainly didn't want to put anyone through the shit that they might have to go through if they did.” He laughs, but it's not a nice sound. It's not the sound people fall in love with, this time. “I don't usually tell people this when I haven't known them a while. I just thought you might get it.”

Isak doesn't reply straight away. He looks down at his now empty coffee cup, wondering if there's something left for him to burn his tongue on, but no luck. His leg jumps up and down underneath the table. 

“I guess I do,” he says eventually. “I just think I'm difficult to love. I don't usually tell people that, either.”

He looks high enough up to see Even’s smile, but not high enough to see if it reaches his eyes. 

“But I'm not - I don't have depression or anything,” Isak says quickly, panic rising in his throat when he realises what Even might be thinking. “I'm fine. I'm just fucking - tired. Like, I'm  a really fucking boring person to be around. You can't get therapy for that. Which I don't need, anyway. I'm fine. And I - I have to go to work, now, so.”

He makes a hasty exit, briefly catching the look on Evens face - maybe it's shock, maybe it's sadness, but Isak can definitely see a hint of fucking sympathy in there. 

He hates fucking sympathy. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings for this chapter ::: talking about suicide and suicidal ideation at least kind of....... uh sorry  
> big Big big thank yous to my lovely validation peeps as always for getting me thru this  
> and I hope u enjoyyyyyy if u can call it that anyway idk

 

He doesn’t.

He doesn't have depression. He doesn't have anything wrong with his head. He's just tired. Exhausted. 

(In an incognito tab, he googles the symptoms of depression, and feels like a fucking attention seeking 14 year old. But the first thing it tells him is about having difficulty getting out of bed. _See?_ He gets out of bed every fucking day.)

He's fine.

But Even -

Even isn't. Isak doesn't want to - feel sorry for him, or patronise him. He doesn't want anything like that, and Even wouldn't want it either.

He just - doesn't want to get too close. Start to care about him. The universe laughs at him when he does that, like it did with his mum.

Maybe he's already too close, though, because he wants to go back and find him. He wants to tell him that he found a playlist of “timeless love songs” on Spotify and he hated almost every single one of them.

But he could imagine Even listening to it, and loving it, and it made it slightly more bearable.

Even doesn't really need to know any of that, though. Probably doesn't want to, which makes everything easier. Isak doesn't need to bother him.

He can just let his life settle again.

 

*

 

His spotify recommended playlists turn to chaos after that, but he does nothing to change it.

He just stops listening to music altogether. It makes him feel tense all over while he’s walking, but he’s sure he read somewhere that it helps you stay in the moment. Maybe the moment is just always tense - he wouldn’t find it difficult to believe.

He catches himself humming, though. Songs like _chasing cars_ or _your song_ or, once, to his disgust, _thinking out loud._ It’s not like he likes the songs. They just get fucking stuck on loop in his brain, like always. Like everything does - everything he says, or people say to him, every way they look at him with something that might be sympathy, or something that might be him projecting.

He can’t imagine anything not going round in circles when he thinks about it. It’s fucking exhausting.

 

*

 

 **Unknown number:** _hey, issyboy! it's lea, sorry we haven't talked in a while, life's crazy! thought about you a lot though, how are you doing? dad mentioned he's a little worried about you because you never answer his texts and it doesnt come up that you've read them anymore_

_i told him not to worry so much because he doesn't really deserve a response from you but now i’m worried that isn't the case haha! let me know you're okay, miss you! you should come over to Berlin sometime, it's sooooo nice here, i'd love you to come and stay xxx_

**Isak:** _hi lea. don't worry im fine, i'll text dad soon. im glad you're enjoying berlin but works probably too busy for me to visit any time soon sorry_

 **Lea:** _awww, shame! but no worries_

_i’m actually probably coming to oslo soon, remember charlotte? one of my friends from school, she's getting married! so i might come back for that. any chance you could put me up for a night or two? not sure i want to stay at dad's but i definitely don't have the money for a hotel haha_

**Isak:** _sure but i have all of mums stuff here, i thought you didn't want to be around that_

 **Lea:** _aw honey, you're so sweet but it's good to remember her sometimes you know?_

 **Isak:** _okay. when would it be?_

 **Lea:** _oh let me check the date!_

_it's next month! april 6th_

**Isak:** _okay_

 **Lea:** _thanks sweetie! see you soon xxx_

 

*

 

Isak misses the days when Lea would phone him, and be her usual idiotic self so that he had an excuse to shout at her, and get some of his fucking anger out about the fact that she left him all fucking alone to deal with their parents. She fucking knew that it was torture in that house, that's why she left.

He wasn't angry, for a while. It occurs to him now that maybe that was just because he didn't have to interact with her, because now that she's texting him he remembers everything, how she left and expected him to just deal with everything when he was barely fifteen. When she rang to see “how he was holding up” it was invariably because she needed something - maybe a few times she called to wish him a happy birthday or Christmas, but that was only when she remembered, always a few days late.

She didn't even try to text last month, on the anniversary. He wasn't bothered by it, but - he fucking is now.

He can't have her drum kit in the house when she comes. Not that he was keeping it for her, but there's no way she would believe that. She thinks everything is about her.

 **Isak:** _do you want a drum kit._

 **Jonas:** _noise complaints?_

 **Isak:** _visiting sister._

 **Jonas:** _shiiiiit, can I come over?_

 **Isak:** _place is a mess_

 **Jonas:** _as always. you home?_

 **Isak:** _yeah, see you soon._

 **Jonas:** _be there in twenty_

This is how it always used to be with Jonas. It's kind of scary how easily they can slip back into it.

Or - maybe it's not scary. Maybe it's just really fucking comforting.

 

*

 

Jonas greets him with a hug.

“Hey man, how're you doing?”

“Yeah, good, thanks, you?”

Jonas nods with a grin.

“Uh, come in, anyway. You want a drink?”

They settle easily onto the sofa, coffees in hand, and Jonas’s eyes soon drift towards the drum kit.

“So Lea's visiting?”

Isak nods. “Next month. Her school friend's getting married and she can't afford a hotel, but she also can't stay with dad.”

“And you said she could stay?”

Isak shrugs. “She's family.”

“So is your dad.”

“Yeah, but he's a shit person.”

“So is Lea.”

“She's -”

Jonas tilts his head as if to dare him to continue.

“I can't exactly take it back,” Isak says with a sigh instead.

“No, that's true.”

“Do you want the drums?”

“You really don't want her to know you still have them?”

“No, I - I don't know, I just feel like she'd read too much into it. She'd get pissed off because she'd think I'm trying to persuade her to stay in Oslo. I just can't be bothered with it.”

Jonas nods. “Sounds like something she'd do.”

Isak wrinkles his nose, then shakes his head as if it'll help clear the way for a new subject.

“How's uni?”

“Fucking stressful. I have so much work to do and then when you texted me about the drums I thought ‘hey, I should start a band,’ as if I genuinely have time for that.”

Isak laughs, tearing himself away from the guilt clawing at him about distracting Jonas.

“You have people to start a band with?” he asks.

“Well, I'd probably have to rope you in to play drums, but Even plays guitar.”

“Even plays guitar?” It kind of worries him how little he has to fake the interest in this fact.

“Yeah, he's pretty good, actually. We jam together sometimes, even if his taste in music is absolute shit.”

Isak looks down at his hands and smiles to himself. Jonas, thankfully, doesn't notice anything unusual, just keeps on talking about the band he'll never start.

After a while, Isak frowns, wondering whether to ask Jonas about Even, and as usual he talks before he's thought it through.

“Did you know Even’s aunt died?”

Jonas narrows his eyes. “When he was a kid, yeah,” he says. “He told you?”

“He, uh, not exactly. She's, uh, really near my mum.”

Jonas’s mouth opens in surprise. “Oh.”

“Yeah. It's weird.”

“So you saw him there?”

Isak nods. “I, uh, I wasn’t really, uh, nice to him?” he knows this is the sort of thing that Jonas would forgive him for, there’s a little smile on Jonas’s face already, but Isak can’t help the little doubt that crosses his mind, the _maybe he cares about Even more than me now._ “We hung out a bit, too, though, we went to get coffee and then I - I don’t know, has he said anything?”

Jonas shakes his head with a confused expression. “I didn’t even know you guys were friends now.”

“We - we aren’t, we just, I don’t know. Shared experience or something. Do you want more coffee? I’m gonna make more,” he stands abruptly and walks to the kitchen.

Jonas follows without answering, leaning against the counter next to Isak when they reach the kitchen and Isak starts to fumble with the coffee pot.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know, I just - if he hasn’t said anything to you it’s - it’s probably not important.”

For a moment, it’s quiet, and Isak thinks he’s escaped the conversation until he turns to look at Jonas and sees the raised eyebrow.

“It’s clearly bothering you,” he says simply. “And knowing you it probably doesn’t need to be.”

Isak scoffs. “Whatever. You don’t know me that well.”

“That’s because you’ve been hibernating for two years.”

Isak sighs, tipping his head back to look at the ceiling. “Are you done?”

“You do know I still think of you as my best friend, right?” Jonas says, quieter now. “I know things were fucked up for a while, but we did grow up together.” He claps a hand to Isak’s shoulder. “And I know you better than you think I do. Spill.”

Isak narrows his eyes at Jonas for a second before sighing again, realising, actually, he doesn’t know if Even has told Jonas about his bipolar, and it definitely isn’t Isak’s place to be the one to - maybe - tell him. “I just - he just told me about his aunt and stuff and I kind of - brushed it off, I guess. I told him he should be over it.”

“That’s it?” Jonas asks. “I mean, yeah, it’s a dumb fucking thing to say, but - I’m sure it’s fine, man. Even’s very forgiving.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Seriously, man, don’t worry. I can talk to him if you like?”

“No, what the fuck is this, high school?”

“You’re kind of making it seem like it,” Jonas points out, and Isak groans in frustration. “Or you could talk to him? I can give you his number?”

“Yeah, no. That’d be fucking weird.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, it just would.”

“But if-”

“Do you wanna play FIFA?” he says it in a bored voice, as if he isn’t cutting across Jonas’s attempts to get him to sort things out.

It’s Jonas’s turn to narrow his eyes at Isak before relenting with a “fine,” but on their way out of the kitchen, he slaps the back of Isak’s head lightly. “You always fucking change the subject.”

“What can I say, it’s a talent.”

“It’s un-fucking-helpful and you know it.”

 

*

 

Jonas agrees to bring a friend who has a van next week to take the drums, and reassures Isak that _no, Even is not the friend,_ without Isak even asking - or wanting to ask. It wouldn’t have bothered him if it was him.

But, now that he’s getting rid of Lea’s drums - or, not really getting rid of them, but at least clearing them out of his apartment, he wonders if it’s time to do the same with some of his mum’s stuff. He’s probably making everything worse having all of it around, even away in boxes - and the boxes are fucking ugly, anyway, so maybe it’s time.

It starts off easy. He has one of those bags from a charity shop asking for donations, and he fills it with things out of the first boxes, stuff he’s never even seen before, hats and shoes, t-shirts that don’t even smell of her, two bottles of perfume that he’s almost certain she never opened. None of it is or was important. None of it has any meaning or memories or attachment.

He's starting to feel almost proud of himself as he clears one corner of the room, until he opens another box, and there it is. He’s overwhelmed by it, by her smell, by her clothes, by everything. He’s not going to cry, he doesn’t need to cry, he won’t cry - but he so easily could.

Fuck. For all that it’s stuck with him, Even saying he doesn’t have to be over it, he fucking wants to be. It would be so much fucking easier if he could just stop caring, if he could just stop feeling, if he could just stop, altogether. Just stop, for a while. Forever, maybe.

He’s not suicidal. He knows he isn’t, because that’s a symptom of having something fucking wrong with his head, and he doesn’t have anything wrong with his head.

But, just, everything is so much sometimes, and he’s exhausted. It might just be easier.

Just to -

Stop.

 

*

 

He doesn’t get out of bed the next day. It’s Sunday, so he doesn’t have work, so he deserves to sleep in - and he doesn't move, so he doesn't need to eat anything. Sleeping takes no energy.

And he doesn't need to shower, because he hasn't done anything, and he forgets to brush his teeth, because, just because. He forgot. He just forgot.

He doesn’t think about it. He doesn’t think about anything except going back to sleep.

 

*

 

But he's fine. Really, he is.

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiiii i literally just finished this chapter now and i know its a bad time to upload it but i cant help myself i just have no deferred graitifiwhatsit do  
> hope u enjoyz it

“You look like shit.”

Alex greets him with a teasing smile when he gets to work, and Isak has to force out a laugh in response. 

“Busy weekend,” he lies.

It's all he can do to cover up the embarrassment he feels at his actions, how fucking lazy he's been and how almost impossible it was to drag himself out of bed to come to work today. It's just because he hasn't eaten in two days - because the first day he didn't eat and the second day he didn't have any energy to eat because he hadn't eaten and, today, the third day, he's eaten almost everything he had in his fridge just to give him back the energy and force himself out of the vicious fucking nightmare of a circle. 

And it worked, of course, because that was all that's wrong with him, hunger. But the two days have taken their toll, and he feels, and looks, as Alex says, like shit. 

He doesn't want to talk about it

“How are you?” he returns the question. “Good weekend?”

Alex nods. “Yeah, good, thanks.”

They quickly settle into their usual silence, and Isak starts to wonder why he considers Alex a friend. He knows next to nothing about him, they don't talk, they make the occasional joke together about a customer and ask about each others weekends, tease each other sometimes, but it's not much. It's not like Jonas. 

It's just been a really strange couple of years. And it's not that it's finally starting to make sense or fall into place, or anything like that, he just - 

He's been lonely. He knew that. It just seems now like maybe it was twisting his mind further beyond recognition than he thought. 

Having Jonas back is better than he thought it would be, and though he doesn't have the energy to expand that to anyone else yet, maybe he will one day. 

Maybe he'll text Sana more, or go round for dinner at kollektivet. Something like that. 

For now, though, he's still tired. 

He still kind of wants to go back to bed. 

 

*

 

Going to work, and walking home afterwards, is sort of like resetting his brain. He no longer has energy to think through any of the heavy shit in his head. All he thinks about, in the 1AM emptiness, is that one tiny dumb mistake he made in front of the whole bar, and then how nice it’d be to be the only person in the world, and then that one dumb mistake again - or was it four, or five, and then Jonas, Eskild, Sana  _ Even _ and then quickly how nice it’d be to be the only person in the world again.

Then he remembers the loneliness, and how miserable he thought it was earlier. He can’t bring himself to agree with that now. Being alone in the 1AM silence isn’t lonely, it’s fucking blissful.

Other people just hurt.

Maybe he wants them around anyway, though.

 

*

 

It’s sort of like his mind is a computer running too many tasks at once, and now it won’t do anything.

He’s late to work the next day because he stays in bed for 18 hours.

 

*

 

When Jonas comes round the next day, he’s fine because he has to be. Because there’s someone else in his house, too, someone he’s never met before, helping Jonas get the drums out and into his van. 

Isak lets most of the interaction happen on autopilot, and go over his head, and by the time it’s over, he can safely say he’d barely recognise the guy if he saw him again, let alone remember his name.

The only part he does remember, in fact, is the fleeting thought he had as the doorbell rang, the inexplicable thought - he won’t call it hope - that maybe Jonas lied about it not being Even that he was bringing.

Afterwards, when the drums are gone and Jonas’s friend is gone and the autopilot is wavering but not quite gone, Jonas sticks around. 

“You been clearing out?” he asks, and he’s gentle about it, as though he can see that Isak broke something inside himself last week. 

Isak clears his throat to clear the thought; there’s no way Jonas could know that. 

“Uh, yeah, uh, trying, at least.” He tries to laugh. “I don’t know what to do with half her shit.” 

Jonas nods in understanding. “Need a hand? Clearing out is fucking exhausting on your own, and I have nowhere else to be.”

He tries all the arguments, the “don’t you have to study” and the “no seriously, I’m fine,” but they all come out half-hearted. After all, Jonas is right. It’s fucking exhausting on your own.

He makes coffees while Jonas looks in the half empty boxes that fucked him up so much last time, pulling one to the centre of the room and sitting down beside it.

“Your mum had a shit ton of records,” he says, flicking through them. “There’s some pretty good ones, too.”

“You can have them,” Isak says as he enters the room. “Dad kept the record player anyway.”

“He’s a piece of shit.”

“Yep.”

Isak manages the smile, even when he looks inside the box that Jonas has open. All her favourite songs, everything she would sing when she was happy, everything she would sing him to sleep with when he was a kid.

“Seriously, you can have them, if you want them. I - I’m not gonna get a record player, so.”

“I don’t have one either,” Jonas sighs. “Otherwise I’d love them.”

“Shame.”

“Yeah.”

For a while, Isak doesn’t know what to say, and neither, it seems, does Jonas. They just sit, with the now useless box of records in front of them, and Isak doesn’t know what to suggest because he’d only really consider giving them to Jonas. If he had to throw them away, or give them to someone who might not care about them, he just - it would - suck.

“Do you know anyone else who’d want them?” he asks finally. “Anyone who actually has a record player?” Maybe Eva, or Magnus or Mahdi. Or - if only he could remember there being a record player in kollektivet. 

Jonas thinks for a moment, then answers the question with a guilty expression when he looks back up. Isak refuses to guess, but raises an eyebrow in question.

“Even has one.” 

Isak is about to respond, with a shrug, and maybe an “okay, cool, tell him he can have them, I don’t care,” but Jonas speaks before he does, and shocks him into silence.

“He asked about you the other day. Wanted to know if you were okay.” Isak takes a second too long to respond, so Jonas continues. “How come you didn’t tell me he offered you free coffees? That’s so fucking unfair, I’ve known him for months and he’s never given me free anything, not even an extra one of those tiny biscuits.”

“You can’t give him free beer in exchange, though,” Isak says when he finally finds his voice again. He can’t put a name to his feelings about this conversation, not while he’s having it, but he’s certain it’ll come back round and round and round later on.  “I mean,” he continues with a joke to force his brain out of the circle. “What could you give him? Your student loans?”

“Fuck you.” He’s smiling. Isak files that fact away against the guilt that’ll crowd into him later.

“No, but really,” Jonas continues after a second. “I don’t understand why you’re so against, like, talking to him.”

Isak shrugs. “Don’t wanna bother him,” he lies.

“I’m almost certain you wouldn’t be.”

The good thing about lying about why he does something is that whatever persuasion anyone tries to use, it doesn’t matter. Jonas doesn’t have a good rebuttal for  _ what if I get too close and - and then - _

And then he goes through the shit that Even didn’t want to put people through if they loved him.

Fuck. He might be an asshole. 

(Maybe he’d deserve that shit, anyway. Payback for being a shitty person. Even shittier that he’s thinking about it like this.) 

He needs to think about it properly, but right now it’s like everything’s trying to stick itself on one of those incessant loops in his brain, but there’s the added autopilot fog stopping it - the fact that there’s someone here, and the loops don’t work when there’s someone here, and Jonas is looking at him expectantly, and the loops are getting tangled beyond recognition and he kind of wants to put his hands over his ears and fucking scream, only normal people don’t do that, and he is, he is, he is fucking normal okay, he’s just -

He clears his throat, and forces a smile.

“Sorry, I zoned out. What were you saying?”

“You wouldn’t be bothering Even,” Jonas says, laughing lightly because he doesn’t know what just went on inside Isak’s head. “And if you don’t take him up on his offer of free coffees, what are you doing?”

Isak laughs too. “True," he says, then gestures to the records in front of him. "You think he’d want these?”

“I can ask him,” he smiles. “It’s 50/50 on whether his music taste is good enough.”

 

*

 

Even wants them. And it’s not that Isak hadn’t considered that, because he has, he considered every fucking thing, but he also - hadn’t. Because now he has to think of all the fucking logistics, like, how the fuck is Even gonna get them? Maybe Jonas will take them for him, but if - if Even does that thing that Isak is for some reason certain he does all the time, that  _ I don’t want to inconvenience you _ thing, then he’ll come over, and Isak will have to - just - let him in, to his apartment, to this place, no matter how much he fucking hates it. He doesn’t want Even here. He hasn’t thought about that enough.

And now Even is going to have something of Isak’s mum, and he’s - he might not even care. 

It’s not that he’s thinking about it too much, but he doesn’t get a whole lot of sleep that night.

 

*

 

Jonas takes them for him, anyway. It’s anticlimactic, like always, his brain works itself into overdrive, and then nothing comes of it.

But he should - he should probably go and see Even. Just to - maybe - say hi. 

To get more attached to something breakable.

Or to reassure himself that his mum’s stuff is going to someone who cares, because he knows, he can just tell, that Even does. He just wants to make sure.

Or - or to reassure Even that - that he’s not difficult to - but Isak doesn’t, anyway. That’s just - it’s too strong. It’s far too much of something that Isak is far too weak for. Far too tired for.

Just to say hi, then. He can do that. He likes walking.

And - free coffee. Like Jonas says. Why wouldn’t he?

Jonas has told him which days Even works, too, so he knows he'll be there, and. 

It's not working, all this reasoning. He doesn't understand his own thoughts about it, not even so far as good or bad. 

He's only walking out of the door because he's so fucking tired of this apartment, and he needs to breathe. If he ends up somewhere else, somewhere unexpected, maybe it'd make everything easier. 

He doesn't. He's outside KB before he's even forced his mind away from the rhythm of his feet on the ground. 

And Even is there, and he looks - like he always does. Just - the same. 

Is that comforting? Isak probably wouldn't know. 

The smile he gives Isak might be comforting, too. He doesn't know, but he knows it's something. 

"Hey, Isak," Even says, and Isak isn't sure why he hadn't considered how nice it is to hear his name from someone else before. It is. It's nice. "How are you?" The question is gentler than he wants or deserves, but he gives a weak smile anyway. 

"Yeah, good, thanks, you?" 

"Better for seeing you," is the answer - with no trace of insincerity - that Isak doesn't know what to do with. He settles for a confused laugh, but doesn't know how to speak. Even continues anyway. "What can I get you?" 

For all that Isak doesn’t know about himself, he’s certain that he’s not the type of person who has a positive impact on other people. He stumbles his way through his order without his mind straying away from it, though, and Even grins at him as if he knows. 

But it’s - they’ve already had that conversation. Of course Even knows. Somehow he just does, he understands Isak, and that’s definitely comforting. Terrifying, too. 

And in the midst of it all, he just desperately wants to get out of there, but he doesn’t really want to leave.

Even hands him the coffee with a smile that he must have practiced, one of those customer service smiles, charming and almost too sweet. The sort of smile designed to make people fall in love. Even’s good at that.

Isak isn’t. He’s too tired for it, all of it, either making people fall in love with him, or falling in love with other people. He’ll probably never be that person, and it’s fine. He’ll stick to his instrumentals, and leave Even to his love songs, and maybe they can still understand each other somewhere. 

There’s a stool near the counter in the KB, and it’s a quiet day, so he sits, waiting for Even to start a conversation, because he’s almost certain that he will, and he does.

“So, you working today?” Even asks, then quickly continues before Isak can answer. “Or am I not allowed to talk about that?”

Isak rolls his eyes. “I’m working. Don’t start till 6,” he shrugs.

It’s not that he hates talking about work, it’s just that a question like that leaves nothing for him to return, no way to continue the conversation by just returning the question.  _ What about you? _ makes it so easy, but Even is right here, at work, in his work uniform. Isak has no idea what to say.

"You start just as I finish," Even says, making it seem so easy to continue the conversation. "What are my chances of free beer tonight?" 

Isak huffs a laugh. "I mean, if you're not bored of me…" he shrugs. It’s the sort of sentence that he’ll regret later.

"You're not a boring person to be around." Even says it as if he's just pulled the words out of the air, but Isak knows he's said that before, and it's - he doesn't know how to respond. 

He looks down at the coffee in his hand and wants to burn his tongue, but he's already tried that around Even.

"You know beer's like twice as expensive as coffee, though?" he manages to find the words somehow.

"You don't like me that much yet?" Even pulls an exaggerated sad face, and Isak can't help but laugh again. 

"I mean, you can come. But you'll owe me coffee." 

"You're welcome to come and get it anytime, I hoped you would realise that by now."

Isak looks away to smile. There’s words waiting in his mouth, but he can’t say them. He doesn’t want to push it. But when Even continues to speak it’s as if he heard the words anyway.

“I won’t get bored of you,” he smiles, and Isak snaps his head back up to look at him. “Seriously, I mean look around you. If you weren’t here right now, that’s when I’d be bored. You’re brightening my day.”

“But, you’re -” he cuts himself off from finishing the sentence that he only started out of shock.  _ You’re the one that brightens things, days, rooms. Not me. _ “Alright then,” he shrugs. “Guess I have to entertain you, then.”

“Please.”

“Uh,” he didn’t think this through. He struggles, until his ears pick up on the song that’s playing.  _ Gabrielle. _ “Fuck. Do you choose the playlists? Jesus Christ.”

Even’s eyebrows flick upwards in a mischievous challenge, and he grins. “I’m actually not, but I do approve of the choices.”

“You wouldn’t work here if they didn’t play her, would you?”

“Absolutely not. I have high standards.”

“We have different definitions of high.”

“You’ll appreciate good music when you fall in love, I’ve already told you.”

“When?” Isak replies, but he can’t hide his laughter, the inexplicable happiness he feels deep inside him at having a conversation so easy as this. There’s a tiny tug inside him too, a reminder that he’ll hate everything about it when he’s alone again, but right now - right now he’s just - happy. This - Even, and the conversation - is making him happy.

“When,” Even agrees. “It’s my mission in life now, to get you to appreciate good music.”

“Oh? And how are you planning that?”

“I’m sure I’ll figure something out,” Even says easily.

Isak shakes his head, tries, probably fails, to pretend he isn’t amused. “What was it you study at uni again? I fucking hope it isn’t music.”

Even lets out an offended noise. “I would be so good at music.”

Isak doesn’t reply with more than a raised eyebrow, and Even scowls.

“I’m studying film,” he says. “which does actually involve music, you know, soundtracks and stuff. So…” he tails off. Isak half expects him to stick his tongue out.

“So I guess I know you’ve made a movie when I see a review that says “great film, but the soundtrack sucked.”

Even tips his head back, half with laughter, half with frustration. “God. You can tell you and Jonas grew up together. You’re both horrible about my taste in music.”

Isak laughs a little, lets it tail off a bit, just to make sure. “I am kidding,” he says. “You - you know that, yeah?”

“I know, Isak,” Even’s smile is so fucking kind again. “It’s fine.”

Isak feels like he’s ruined it by asking. 

He’s still so happy, though - it’ll probably fade, when he’s alone again. Even continues the conversation as if nothing happened, bright as he always is, and Isak lets himself enjoy it while it lasts.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO! so i've been in oslo for the last week and finished this whilel i was there but i didnt have my laptop so i couldnt post which was the WORST  
> but im home now and here it is! hope u guys enjoyyyyyy

Even shows up. 

It shocks Isak because it's the sort of thing he wouldn't do - he'd give a vague hint that something sounded nice, or he might do it, and then use the excuse that he never said he definitely would. 

But Even said, vaguely, that he might show up at the bar, and now he's here. And it's fine, it's - nice, but it's unexpected, by Isak's standards. 

Really, he should have expected it of Even. But he's still not sure he believes he's not a boring person to be around, or a tiring one. 

Even is smiling. When Isak's tired, he doesn't smile that much. He doesn't really know what conclusions to draw from that; everything it might be just seems kind of unlikely. 

Isak's busy when Even first arrives, talking to Erik and fiddling with the pack of cards in his hands, midway through a bet that he can shock Erik with the outcome of the next trick (he knows he can't, but Erik thinks he can, and for some reason the bet is the opposite of what they both think will happen.) 

Even walks in just as Isak is flipping his cards from one hand to another in that way that Erik told him to practice because that's the impressive part - and it is. Even notices, stops where he is in the doorway, and catches Isaks eye with a flick of his eyebrow to say  _ "woah."  _

Isak grins, even when the surprise at seeing Even sets in. It's kind of nice, to be the one who can impress people, even if he does it with other people's tricks. 

He looks back at Erik, and finishes the trick. 

"So did it work?" he deadpans, knowing full well it didn't. 

"Almost," Erik lies with an encouraging smile. 

Isak just rolls his eyes, and makes his excuses to move over to where Even is now sitting at the bar.

There’s no hello, no how are you, this time. Even just goes straight to “so I didn’t know you did card tricks.”

Isak shrugs. “Not very well. What can I get you?”

He’s immediately on edge after his own words,  _ did that sound too formal? Is he being weird? Too polite for a kind-of-friend? _ But Even smiles again, and he relaxes a little.

“Do I have to get the cheapest beer?” he asks with a mischievous smile.

“Only if you want your tastebuds to literally shrink back into your tongue.”

He panics again. He's not meant to say this stuff, it's unprofessional. Why can't he just learn a fucking balance when he's working. If Even's gonna show up more often, he - 

But, actually, this will probably end up a one time thing. Once Even realises he's a fucking mess. 

“Sounds delightful.” Even says, reminding Isak to pay fucking attention, because now he barely remembers what Even is talking about from the space of a few seconds of spiralling. 

Isak raises an eyebrow. "Alright then." 

He starts to turn away, but Even quickly interrupts, laughing. "No, no, god, please no."

Isak turns back with a grin, and Even returns it. For a second, Isak stops spiralling and focuses on that. 

He snaps quickly out of it, though, and moves back to autopilot, getting Even the beer that he actually wants, and warning him its three coffees now, and Even just tells him it'll be nice to see him. 

Isak finds an excuse to turn away and serve another customer, but he has to smile. It's just polite. 

Later, he goes back over to Even, because it’s what he’s supposed to do. He’s supposed to check on people, and Even’s by himself, and Isak doesn’t have as much time as Even did earlier, because it’s  - not busy, but there are plenty of customers to occupy him, when he really should spend the time talking to Even because that’s what Even did earlier for him, and he’s, he’s just returning the favour, it’s just politeness.

It’s sort of - sort of selfish, too. He just wants to talk to Even. It made him happy earlier, so now he’s testing the theory that it was just a fluke, a one-off, but he wouldn’t be upset if his theory was wrong.

Actually, he’d be happy. That’s kind of the point. 

Even grins at him as he approaches. “Do I get to see a card trick, then?”

“Only if you want to be really disappointed.”

“Ah, but I don’t think I would be. You’re talking to the person who failed at performing the easiest of card tricks, you know the one where you sneak a look at the card before you put it back in the pack? I couldn’t even do that. And then you’re over here flipping the cards around like they do in  _ Now You See Me, _ and I’m already impressed.”

Isak shrugs. “I haven’t seen that film, but thanks?”

“I mean, you probably shouldn’t watch it. It’s pretty cool with the surface level stuff, but then you look past the effects and the plot twists and the convoluted explanations and you realise it’s just… not that great.One of those films that they pull the ending out of nowhere and say “hey, you didn’t see this coming!” but the reason you don’t see it coming is that there is absolutely no setup whatsoever.”

Isak smiles. His theory was wrong.

“Not your sort of film, then?” he asks.

“I like it enough,” Even replies. “But you know, on a very shallow level. I prefer really,  _ really  _ pretentious films.”

“I can kind of tell.” He gives a teasing smile as he says it, but he’s not so worried about his jokes falling flat with Even anymore. 

And it doesn’t. Even returns the smile, and adds “yeah, the soundtrack’s really important to me, as well.”

Isak raises an eyebrow, and he and Even laugh together. 

Yeah. His theory was wrong.

 

*

 

There are still boxes left in his apartment. The ones that he can't touch, not now, not yet, not ever. 

And anyway, he told Lea that he still had all her stuff, so wouldn't it be weird if he didn't? And then she'd ask him about it, and then they'd have to talk about her and Isak can't, not to her. She's not - she wouldn't understand it. She never understood her, so she wouldn't understand Isak and she'd make everything difficult. She'll be here in a week and a half and Isak just wants to ring and tell her not to come but he can't do that so he just has to deal with it and stick it out until its over however much he doesn't want to however much it tightens his chest and messes up his control. 

It's only for three days. He closes his eyes and holds his breath and picks up the last few boxes and pushes them further towards the wall, further out of sight, so that maybe she won't comment on them. 

And then he sits back - lies back, collapses almost - on his sofa and puts on Netflix and tries not to think about it. 

His mind loops around the subject anyway. It doesn't help fucking anything. 

 

*

 

**Jonas:** _ yooooo me and the boys are all meeting at even's this evening for drinks and stuff, you wanna join? short notice I know but magnus is mad at me that ive seen you recently and he hasn't, you know how he is _

_ no pressure as always, you don't have to stay long and we won't be smoking because even has a cat anyway and he's very protective of her _

Isak didn't know that Even has a cat. It hasn't come up in any of their conversations,and he's not mad about it, he's just confused. Even's not the sort to leave something like that out. Isak's kind of wondering why Even hasn't shown him pictures, or at least told him stories of feline mischief. That's how he'd imagine Even talking about it. 

But in their three? maybe four conversations? Isak is definitely thinking about this too much. 

Should he go tonight? Probably not. He's only just woken up, and it's - he hasn't had time to think about it, and he can't just go to Even's house, it's just - it's just weird. 

Jonas won't really be expecting him to go. It'd just be too much for him, too much for anyone. He doesn't know them anymore, he can't just invade on their space like this. They can't be like they used to, not when - 

But maybe it'd be easier now. Now that he - doesn't mind Even, now that he feels a little more confident that they didn't replace him. 

They still got someone better than him. Someone who brightens up the room like Isak never could. 

Like Isak brightened Even's day, but he still doesn't really believe that. 

He starts to type  _ I don't know if I _ \- and then stops, but he doesn't know what's stopping him. 

And before he can decide, another text comes in. 

**Jonas:** _ I can come to yours before and we can walk together if you like? it's only about fifteen minutes from yours.  _

Isak likes walking, but it's been a while since he walked with another person.

He deletes the message he started and sends  _ is even okay with me joining?  _

**Jonas:** _ of course! he told me to invite you _

Of course he did. 

But should Isak - is it really a good Idea - what if - 

**Isak:** _ok. what time?_

He's getting really shit at this whole control thing.

 

*

 

He meets Jonas outside his apartment seven minutes after he texts to say he's here, six minutes after Isak notices his breathing is faster than normal and his thoughts are also kind of faster than normal, five minutes after he decides he really needs another hoodie and he forgot to put some stuff away in his kitchen and hang on, what if he left the oven on from when he used it last week. 

Could he still bail? He doesn't. 

Jonas greets him with a hug like he always does now, and Isak returns it and relaxes a little, and then they start walking. 

Isak's out of practice of letting his step fall in time with someone else's, or trying to talk at the same time as his mind is desperately trying to push him into the steady rhythm of his feet on the ground. 

Jonas talks, and Isak listens, and occasionally adds something, some comment, never a full story like Jonas has but maybe something interesting here or there, although he could easily believe that he adds nothing to the conversation. 

He pays attention, though, because he cares about Jonas, really he does. And he's sort of practising, too, for an evening that's seeming less and less like a good idea the closer he gets to it.

But they arrive and Even welcomes them in and the smile he gives Isak doesn't seem fake but it still brightens up everything. 

Magnus gives him a bear hug, Mahdi gives him a handshake, Even gives him a beer. He settles at the end of the sofa next to Jonas and drifts in and out of the conversation and in and out of autopilot. 

The conversation isn't something he can't join in with, but he mostly doesn't anyway, because he doesn't really have anything interesting to add this time. Mostly he watches Magnus and Even back and forth about some recent episode of a show that Isak has never seen, with Mahdi and Jonas occasionally joining in. But it's not that uncomfortable, actually. It's kind of nice to watch how animated they all get about it, to watch them laughing together and occasionally be able to join in. To be able to laugh at Magnus's desperate attempts to persuade Even's cat to sit on his knee or even just come near him at all. She eventually decides on the arm of the sofa next to Isak, and settles down with a quiet purr when Isak runs his hand along her back. He's never really thought of himself as an animal person, but she is nice. 

Even turns to him and grins. "Her name's Gabrielle." 

Isak quickly pulls his hand back to glare at him before noticing everyone else's bewildered looks at Even. 

"You said her name was Greta," Magnus says, almost as if he's accusing Even of something. 

"I'm kidding," Even laughs. "It is Greta." He grins widely at Isak, who rolls his eyes, an action which quickly turns into a small smile. 

The others quickly adjust back to their previous conversation, and Isak resumes stroking Greta, not entirely sure he wouldn't have stopped altogether had Even been telling the truth. 

He's almost forgotten the records until Even points him to the kitchen for more beers and he walks past an open door, through which he sees a bookshelf, of which the bottom two shelves are records. 

Honestly, he's no idea how many of them are - were his mums, but he knows - thinks that it's some of them. His chest seizes up for a moment, stops him breathing, stops him moving, but he forces himself away from the door, shakes his head to shake the thoughts, and gets the beers he came for. 

But it did work, last week, when he needed to reassure himself that Even cares. Isak knows now that he does. 

When he returns to the others, and hands the beers to Mahdi and Jonas, Jonas seems to be waiting for him almost as if he knows what just happened. The others' conversation fades to a backdrop as Isak sits back next to him. 

It's not late in the evening as far as time goes, but Isak thinks he'll be gone soon enough. Sooner, after the subject Jonas brings up. 

"Lea arrives next week, right?" 

Isak shrugs. "Yeah. Thursday evening."

"Are you working?" 

Isak feels guilty about it even though he knows that Jonas wants the answer to be yes. 

"I took friday off," he says instead of a direct answer. "I think dad wants us to go out for a meal."

"And you agreed to that?" 

"Not yet." 

"You know you don't have to, right?" 

"I'm aware." He's also aware of how much guilt will come if he says no, not from himself but from his sister and his father throwing it at him in unanswered texts and missed calls that he knows shouldn't have an effect on him but they do anyway. 

"And," Jonas starts talking again, cutting Isak's mind off from where he was going to tune back into listening to Even talk. "If you need my great aunt to die again, she probably can. I doubt your dad would remember last time."

Isak can't help but smile, now. Jonas doesn't have a great aunt, but Isak's used the excuse that Jonas needs a friend after she's died before, back in third year when he'd just come out and his dad wanted another family meal - probably to talk to Isak about his choices, although he never actually found out whether that was the case. It could have been a nice evening - his dad hasn't ever been exactly awful about it - but Isak knew it would have been more than a little uncomfortable regardless. 

"I think I'll be okay," he says. "But thanks."

He manages it now, to tune back into Even talking, and Magnus and Mahdi too. He does register the nod Jonas gives him, and the look that Jonas thinks he didn't see, the knowing, the kindness, the sympathy. He tries not to think about it, though, and just focuses on the conversation happening in front of him that he can add nothing too except a half hearted laugh. But it's a laugh that, every time he gives it, Even turns to him, and smiles warmly, as if it was all he wanted from the conversation. Just to hear Isak laugh. 

It's incredibly self centred of him to think like that, though. To take Even's kindness and twist it to suit his loneliness, to think that one person might see him above anyone else. 

He should probably go home before this gets any worse. He's been here an hour already, and he's not cut out for things like this. The autopilot's already wearing thin and giving way to thoughts that he doesn't want to have - ever, but especially not here. 

He makes his excuses, and says his goodbyes, and then he's cut short. 

"I'll come downstairs with you," Even says. "The front door is a nightmare if you're not used to it."

"It's - oh," Isak can't exactly refuse after he processes what Even says. "Uh, okay." 

He's starting to forget what it looks like when Even's smile is fake, or maybe he's just out of practice determining whether it's fake or not. It seems real, though, it's seemed real for a while, the last few times Isak has seen him at least. It's a nice thought, that Even is able to smile properly. It brings a little smile from Isak too, as he follows Even out of the door and down the stairs, watching as he lifts the handle on the front door, pushing his weight against it before turning the lock and finally opening it. 

"You make it look so easy," Isak says sarcastically. 

Even laughs loudly. "I got trapped in here for about half an hour when I first moved in. Eventually I gave up and had to knock on the door of the downstairs apartment." 

Isak would probably have stayed trapped. He doesn't tell Even that though, just laughs a little, nowhere near as loud or bright as Even, but it gets him another warm smile anyway. 

"Okay, well, thanks for letting me out," he says. "And for, uh, having me, and stuff." He tries to smile again but now he just feels like he's tripped over his words too much and made it awkward. "It was nice." A last ditch attempt to make amends, though Even makes it seem like he doesn't need to. 

"Thank you for coming," he replies, which is just what people are meant to say, so Isak knows he shouldn't let himself think that it doesn't seem like that's why Even says it, but his thoughts are one thing that he's never had control over. 

He doesn't have control over anything much any more. So he just smiles, eyes meeting Even's in some terrifying way that he'll never want himself to read too much into, but he will anyway. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're back folks  
> thanks to my good peeps (bri and isi and all the anons on tumblr!) for encouraging and validating and hyping this, you are all angels and i would be nowhere without u  
> enjoyo!!!

There are flowers on his mother's grave. Daisies, or something. 

No one's around to admit to putting them there, it’s almost deserted here today, but he knows for certain who it wasn't - and he's almost sure of who it was, too, but he shouldn't think about that. 

Anyway, it's not like it hasn't happened before, that there's been flowers, so maybe he doesn't know who. Isak isn't the only person who cared about her. There were - are hundreds of people, neighbours, people from the church, family - just not immediate family. 

But it’s just that - he can see the forget-me-nots left for June yesterday, and it just seems logical. It seems like the sort of thing Even would do. 

Isak would be lying if he said he didn't consider coming here yesterday instead, or as well, or something, but he'd also be lying if he said he hasn't thought about everything too much since sunday, since all the smiles Even gave him, since Isak allowed himself to look - and then by the time he remembered to regret looking, it was too late. His mind was already stuck on loop. Still is. 

There's a chance that the flowers were from someone else, and Isak can't put himself in the position of asking about it, because if the answer he got was confusion the humiliation would force itself into his chest and eat through his ribcage. And, too, if the answer was yes. He'd have no good response to that, what, a thank you? a smile? It might be good enough for the Even in his head, but it's not good enough for the real one, nor anyone else. It's not good enough for himself. 

He goes closer to the forget-me-nots, tracing the steps he took with Even last month, remembering what he said about her. 

Isak would never talk out loud in a place like this, but he stands, and thinks, lets himself believe that June will understand this as a silent message, a thanks for looking after Even. It's good that someone did. 

His brain's a fucking weird place to be today. None of this has any semblance of logic to it, he's tired and he's stressed about thursday and he's just acting strange - thinking strange because of it. 

His eyes drift down to the dates on the grave, and he stops for a moment.

April 2nd. Yesterday. And Isak knows well enough that the anniversaries still suck for Even. He should - do something, should have come to find him yesterday, or should swallow his discomfort and ask Jonas for Even’s number, to message him. 

He doesn’t know what he’d send, though. He’d probably steal words from what he thinks someone else would say, maybe “thinking of you today <3” like Eva would send, or “hey, bro, just checking in, everything alright?” like Jonas would. 

He wouldn’t have any words of his own. Maybe it isn’t a bad thing that he doesn’t have Even’s number. None of their words suit him.

He doesn’t have flowers, either. He doesn’t have anything to show that he cares, but maybe that’s because he shouldn’t - or maybe, his understanding of his own thoughts is more twisted than he knows, and he doesn’t care.

Maybe he’s just lonely.

 

*

 

Thursday is fucking difficult. 

Even before Lea arrives, he's tidying the house, making it look as though he cares, getting the sofa bed out for her, finding the spare keys that he's almost never used, especially not since - 

Lea's going to come to the bar, collect the keys and go back to his place without him, and he doesn't know how he feels about it, but it's much easier than having to spend the evening with her. She's going to be in his apartment without him, though, looking at all his stuff, making her own conclusions about how he's doing, not that she's ever cared about that. 

And then - what if she opens the boxes? He remembers her as the sort of person to do that, the sort of person to barge into his room when he was 13 and just flop onto his bed, rant about some guy she was seeing who wouldn't text her back, and then look through all his stuff without asking because she got bored. 

But then, that was nearly ten years ago.It's kind of funny how time passes. And Isak knows that people change, he's seen it in the way his friends have all moved onto new things, new people. But it's not really something he'd believe of Lea. She's just how she always is. 

The bed's made, there's food in the fridge, coffee and tea if she wants them. He knows he's forgotten something but what does it matter, she either won't notice or won't shut up about it. 

Work’s fine, until she arrives. Uneventful. He kind of wants Even to show up, but he told him clearly enough last time that he was owed more coffees before that could happen. This is his own fault, but he still wishes he had the distraction.

And then, she does arrive, pushing the door open and dragging an electric blue suitcase behind her, hair and make up styled to perfection in a way that Isak doesn’t remember about her, but he could easily believe it’s a way for her to show off about how well she’s doing now, without family holding her back. 

But he - he's missed her, actually. He can admit to that, as he checks with Alex that it's okay for him to disappear for five minutes. 

He moves out from behind the bar, half-real smile on his face and his arms lifting just a little to catch the ones that stretch out to him with an excited squeal that he should have prepared himself for. 

“Isak, oh my god!” 

She pulls him into an overenthusiastic hug while he just manages to get out a “hey, Lea.”

“God,” she repeats as she pulls away to look at him. “Look at you, you’re a proper adult!”

He narrows his eyes. “Yeah, have been for four and a half years.”

Her smile fades a little, but she shakes her head as if she finds it funny. “Well, it’s been a while, Issy,” she says, keeping up the excitement in her tone. “How are you?”

Isak shrugs. “I’m good, you?”

She grins and nods. “So good, actually! It’s so nice to be back home."

Isak nods. "Yeah, it's - it's good to see you." 

She beams,then reaches up and ruffles his hair. "Sweetie," she says, in what seems to be an attempt at affection but she's definitely missed that and moved right on to patronising. 

That's always been one of her talents. She hasn't changed. 

Isak clears his throat. "Uh, yeah, anyway, I have to, uh, get back to work, so…" he tails off and reaches into his pocket for the spare key. "You know how to get there, right? The tram's like two minutes down the street. I'll have my phone on me so you can ring if you need anything." 

She nods. "Sure!" There's insincerity in it that Isak has no energy to think about. "Shame that you couldn't take the day off." 

He shifts uncomfortably. "I'm off tomorrow. Sorry." 

"No worries!" she's bright again and it's exhausting. "We'll catch up later, then. If I'm still awake." 

Isak crosses his fingers behind his back that she won't be. 

The rest of his shift is fine. It’s just - fine. His mind is elsewhere, running at twice the normal speed to accommodate all his new panics, all the new scenarios of what’ll happen when he gets home tonight. Maybe Lea will have gone to sleep, she’ll be tired from travelling anyway. And it’s the sort of thing she’d do, just to sleep because it’s what she wants, never mind anyone else - not that it’s not also what Isak wants, but it doesn’t matter that she has no way of knowing that.

He doesn’t hate her. He’s missed her, can’t imagine his childhood without her. There are moments, up until she left, memories of her being the best big sister he could have. And the worst, and the most annoying, but on the days that his parents would argue downstairs, loud enough to wake the whole street, she would come into his room, climb into his bed with her laptop, and they would watch some disney movie together to drown them out.

Even in more simple ways, she was great. Good fun, and she made the best brownies when she could be bothered to go to the shop and get the ingredients. 

Everything’s just sort of been ruined by her leaving. By her not coming back for their mum. He doesn’t know how to talk to her anymore and it’s probably all his fault, but he blames it on her because she’s the one that left.

He could make an effort. If she’s still awake. But he knows he’ll probably just close himself off as soon as he walks back home and actually sees her again. The moment she says something condescending or thoughtless.

He closes the bar, thinking again about how there’s been no sign of Even.

It’s funny how, a couple of months ago, he would have begged his mind to rest on anything besides Even, and now, faced with his sister - or maybe even if he wasn’t, thinking about Even is a sort of refuge. Peaceful, just, bringing him a little bit of happiness. Thinking about his smile rather than anything else. 

He still won’t read too much into it. Pleads with his mind not to overthink, just to enjoy the thoughts. 

He gets home in what feels like no time at all, and his thoughts are abruptly cut short by the light coming from his window. 

It’s a disconcerting sight, though he knows it’s because of his sister. The light has never been on before when he’s come home, as careful as he is switching it off every time - if it’s on in the first place. 

He’ll go inside, and it won’t be quiet. He’ll probably still be lonely, that’s still the default.

Outside his door, he hesitates. For what, he’s not sure - just to build himself up, maybe. To breathe in some courage of some sort, some immunity to her condescending words, to any sympathy she decides to give him, to any guilt that she pretends to have.

The door isn’t locked. She’s awake, yes, but what if she’d fallen asleep? It scares Isak more than he can rationalise.

He pushes it open, bracing himself for another excited cry like the one she gave earlier, but he’s relieved to hear a much more gentle greeting.

“Hey, Issy!”

He rolls his eyes at the nickname, but it’s not like she’ll ever stop using it.

“How was work?”

As if they’re two people who are able to hold a normal conversation. It’s been fucking years. But he’s not angry. He’s fine. And this is only for two and a half days anyway. 60 more hours, and she’ll be gone. Maybe even 58. For 24 of those, they’ll both be asleep,  for 12 more she’ll be at a wedding, and 3 more after that he’ll be working. It’s just - tomorrow, that’s the problem.

“Uh, yeah, work was fine,” he remembers to reply a while later than he should. “Uneventful, I guess. Did you, uh, did you find everything okay?” He looks towards the TV, quietly playing some soap that Isak didn’t even know was still airing, and the coffee cup in front of her on the table. He knows the answer without her giving it, but he doesn’t know any other way to make conversation.

“Yeah, thanks,” she replies grinning, then pats the sofa next to her. “Come sit, we need to catch up.”

He goes slowly, taking the time to untie his shoes instead of just kicking them off like he usually does. When he gets to the sofa, he sits, one leg underneath him, the other tapping anxiously against the floor. He looks down at the cushions rather than meeting her eyes.

“Alright,” he says. “What are you doing in Berlin at the moment?”

He switches on autopilot as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

 

*

 

**Jonas (9:24):** _duuuude, forgot to text last night! hope everything’s going alright with your sister, if that’s possible. i have to be at uni all day today but text me if you need me i’m sure i can bail on classes, the professor already hates me anyway_

_ otherwise i think even is working until 4, you could hang out with him, he’d probably give you more free coffee _

_ i am still bitter about that, btw _

**Isak (11:57):** _hey, no worries. it’s not so bad_

_ she’s going out anyway to meet up with some friends _

**Jonas (12:01):** _ oh sweet _

_ let me know how tonight goes? dead aunt offer still stands _

**Isak (12:10):** _ will do _

*

 

Isak finally exhales when the door shuts behind Lea. She’d been tired this morning, too sleepy to force a conversation like she’d tried to have last night, until eventually Isak had to excuse himself with half-fake tiredness.

His apartment is his own again briefly. Or - not really, her stuff is still everywhere, the sofa bed still out, unmade, her clothes scattered next to it. Dirty bowls next to the sink from breakfast, and it's not that Isak is a particularly tidy person, but it just - gets at him. She doesn't think. 

He could tidy it. Use the time he has by himself to breathe, to put on some headphones and crawl back to the comfort of music to drown out his annoyance and his overthinking. Could make the apartment feel like his again, these tiring, draining, lifeless rooms. Just for her to make a mess again as soon as she comes back. 

Or he could just - walk. Wherever his feet take him, though his brain might interfere with the destination. It’s not like it’d be his fault if he ended up there. Not like he has any control over it.

It's not as quiet as it has been the last couple of times he's been to KB. Instead of the scattered few people at the tables inside and outside, there's a steady stream of people in and out the door. Isak freezes as he notices it from twenty paces down the street, and calculates in his head whether he wants to turn back. Even won't have any time for him anyway, no way he’ll be working by himself, it might not even be him serving Isak, and how would he explain the free coffee - well, he wouldn't, Isak has money on him, so it's fine but its just - 

He takes out his phone and pretends to type on it while he tries to make a decision. 

It's made for him soon enough. Even comes out to the front of the cafe to clean up an empty table,and sees him. 

"Isak!" he says, and it's not far off the excited way that his sister greeted him last night, but it's so much nicer to hear. 

He gives a guilty smile. "Hi," he says awkwardly. "I didn't realise it would be this busy. I'm, uh -" 

Even shakes his head. "It's not that busy, you're fine. Come in, Ellie's at the counter but I'll tell her you’re owed free coffee." 

"But - is that allowed?" Isak asks, taking a couple of steps forward despite it. 

"Yeah, of course," Even grins. "She gives her boyfriend free coffee all the time."

He turns away as he says it to look behind him for some reason, but turns back quickly enough. 

"Yeah, come in," he repeats, a little more distracted than before. 

Isak follows him inside, and - maybe it's not that busy. Just a regular day, really. Isak just expected - hoped for quiet. A chance to just talk to Even. Not that he wants to talk about anything - he's not going to bring anything up about the flowers or the date but he just - wants to laugh with Even. 

But at least he's out of the house. And Even is here, in some way. Maybe he'll have five minutes for Isak - maybe that's selfish. 

He follows Even inside, and Even slips behind the counter, one hand on the shoulder of the girl standing there and a smiling murmur "his coffee's on me." 

The girl - Ellie, was it? - raises an eyebrow, but doesn't comment, just turns to Isak with a customer service smile and takes his order. 

Isak settles on the high seats by the window with his coffee, glancing around out of curiosity to see Even preoccupied clearing a table across the room. Just as Even seems about to look up and catch his eye, he looks away, and distracts himself with a game on his phone. 

It's only five minutes before someone sits in the empty seat beside him, wordless. Isak hopes, and then looks. 

"You look kind of bored," Even says. "Do you need entertaining?" 

Isak ducks his head to smile. "Aren't you working?" He asks, looking back up with a raised eyebrow. 

Even shrugs, and tilts his head to confirm it. "But I didn't take my full break earlier, so technically I'm owed this." 

Ellie interrupts, speaking over the counter. "The minute someone comes through the doors, you're coming straight back here," she says, not waiting for an answer before she turns her attention back to cleaning the coffee machine. 

Even grins,and turns back to Isak. "How are you?" He asks, and he must somehow know that it's a question Isak hates, because he moves quickly on. "Jonas said your sister was visiting you, I didn't think you'd show up today." 

Isak takes a moment to think of a good response, by which time Even has already continued.

"Glad you did, though," he smiles. 

Isak returns the smile where Even can see it this time. "Yeah, me too. I mean, this is a lot better than spending the day with my sister," he gives a hollow laugh then immediately regrets saying it. 

"You don't like her? Or am I just that great?" Even grins and winks, and Isak shakes his head, rolling his eyes, quick to explain a second later. 

"No, she's - I mean, it's just stress, with family, I don't know." He shrugs, regretting every detail he let's slip but sort of unable to stop himself at this point. "I - I have to go for a meal with her and my dad tonight and I - yeah, it's just stress." 

He moves his focus down to the coffee in his hands, his fingers anxiously taking the lid off and putting it back, over and over and fumbling and not really calming him at all but at least giving him a reason not to look at Even's judgement. 

They're his family for fucks sake, he's meant to look forward to spending time with them, and they may be shit, yeah, but Even doesn't know that, and now he probably thinks Isak is selfish or a bad person or something and it's just - well, he probably is a bad person but - he doesn't want anyone to think that - does that make him worse? Just lying to everyone? 

Even is kind about it. He always fucking is, even when Isak has never deserved anything less. 

"Caffeine probably won't help your stress levels," he says. "I should have made you herbal tea or something." 

Isak narrows his eyes at him, just to see him raise his hands defensively. 

"I'm serious," he says. "Is there anything you usually do when you're stressed? To help you chill out?"

Isak starts to shrug, then changes his mind. "I don't know, I usually go for a walk." 

Even nods. "That's good. Where do you walk?" 

Isak shrugs again. "I don't know I just - walk around. Just streets and stuff, I don't know." 

“Just streets? You don’t go to a park or something?”

At this point, Isak’s shrugged more than he’s spoken, but he does it again anyway. 

“Maybe you should go to a park. Be around trees and stuff, I always find that pretty calming.”

This time, Isak raises an eyebrow. Even lets out a self conscious laugh, and Isak immediately feels guilty. 

“Seriously, though,” he says, and Isak tries to smile, tries to reassure him of - something, he doesn’t know. It just seems like he needs to do that. Even continues anyway, so maybe it worked. “Like, we aren’t far from Slottsparken, why not go there?”

Isak wrinkles his nose. “Because I’m not a fucking tourist?”

Even laughs again - frustrated, this time, but in a nice way. Maybe - fond? Is that how to describe it? Isak doesn’t know - doesn’t want to label it, in case he’s wrong. 

He’ll leave it nameless, but he’ll replay the sound in his head a few hundred times.

“It is nice, though,” Even says. “We could-”

“Even,” Ellie shouts across the cafe and interrupts him, and when they both look round, they see more people coming through the door. The five minutes is up.

Even sighs, long and dramatic in a way that Isak hasn’t heard from him before, but isn’t surprised by. He stands, glances at his watch, and then looks back at Isak.

“I finish in half an hour,” he says. “We could go to the park if you have time?”

“I-” Panic explodes in his chest. How does he respond to that? There’s a million reasons to say no, and only a few to say yes but they’re so loud - but then the consequences could be louder, exponentially impossibly horrifically louder.

“You don’t have to,” Even smiles kindly. Fucking again. “I’ll see if you’re still here when I’m done.”

Isak surprises himself by smiling, and nodding, and imagining that he will be.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a very fast update??? theories on whether i have been replaced by an alien will be discussed in the end notes  
> big love enjoy!

He is. Still there, that is.

It’s not entirely deliberate, and not entirely accidental, but he’s still there when Even finishes, and he watches him go into the back room and come out with his coat, smiling when he sees Isak.

“So it’s a yes, then?” he asks. “You’ve decided to be a tourist?”

“I guess,” Isak shrugs, though he still doesn’t even know if this is a good idea. “If I have to be."

"You do," Even grins. "No take backs. Shall we go?" 

Isak nods, and follows Even. 

He's grateful for the little bit of practice he had falling into step with Jonas on sunday. It's much easier now, to walk side by side with Even, to listen out for any time he decides to start a conversation. At first, he doesn't, and Isak doesn't either. They walk in silence, but it's kind of nice. Kind of relaxing. 

Even glances over to him as they reach the entrance to the park, a small smile on his face. Isak catches his eye to return the smile, a little more cynical on Isak's part, but with an underlying sense of calm that he doesn't want to admit to. Even probably knows, anyway. He always seems to know. 

Hasn't Isak been scared of that before? Someone knowing him so closely despite it being - only a few months since they met? Maybe he's scared of it now, too. Maybe this was a bad idea. 

But the trees are nice, he'll admit to that. And he's almost not thinking about the evening, too caught up in the chaos of the rhythm of his feet on the ground interrupted by Even interrupted by calm interrupted by _I should be scared by this_ interrupted by _I should go_ interrupted by flat refusal from the rest of his body. 

He just keeps walking, silent with Even, calm by his side. His hands are in his pockets and they'll stay there, but once or twice, his elbow brushes against Even's. Neither of them apologise. Neither of them push, or pull away. Neither of them acknowledge it. It’s probably not something that needs acknowledging. 

The trees are nice. The company is, too. 

"Can we sit?" Even speaks up a while later when they approach a bench. "I just realised - I've been on my feet, like, all day." 

Isak nods, then changes his mind, and teases. "You sat down an hour ago." 

Even argues with a smile in his voice. "For like, five minutes!" he protests, flopping down onto the bench with a dramatic huff. Isak follows his lead, leaving a foot of space between them. Anything less and he probably wouldn't be calm anymore, busy being hyperaware of the fact that someone’s _there,_ so close, too close - and even with the space between them he can’t help but panic at the thought of Even moving closer.

He doesn’t, though. He’s always careful around Isak. Maybe he thinks Isak is breakable.

And fuck. That’s a thought that he didn’t want to have. That Even’s just around him because he feels sorry for him. But then - it’s logical, isn’t it? Because, why else would anyone want him around? He’s just fucking tired and miserable and stressed all the time - probably stressful to be around, and bor-

Even said he wasn’t boring. 

People lie.

This is fucking childish of him. To think this, and to question it, and to care this much. It’s just - he’s not meant to overthink when there’s someone here, but it’s silent between them and there’s a whole lot of new factors to take into consideration now and Even must have been fucking lying about the trees because he’s no calmer than he was when they started walking - maybe he was for a second, but now -

“What’s your sister like?” Even asks, and Isak’s brain tries to shut up for a minute, but half of it keeps going, and a second later he’s almost forgotten the question already.

“Um, she’s,” he struggles with an answer. “Loud.”

"Stressful?" Even smiles. 

Isak half laughs, pushes his thoughts ( _you can fucking tell you're related)_ away. "Yeah." 

"Is she older than you?" 

"Yeah, like, four years older," Isak says. "She lives in Berlin, I - I haven't seen her since she left, not properly. She came back once when I was seventeen but I - barely saw her." 

"Shit, that's a long time," Even says, "Makes sense why it's stressful," he looks away, and back again with a new teasing grin. "Are the trees working?" 

He's so eager that Isak can't bring himself to disappoint him - but he can't bring himself to lie either. He just shrugs, breathing out something that could be a laugh if it tried a little harder. 

"Fuck, they aren't?" Even realises, smile fading. 

Isak thought he was a little more subtle than that. 

"Damn. okay. What else chills you out?" 

"It's not your job," Isak says. 

"No, but it is my mission," Even replies, his smile returning in full force. "I really should have made you herbal tea." 

"We could just actually walk," Isak suggests - more nervous than he should be at putting forth an idea of his own - it has, now that he thinks about it, been a while. A while since he's had any person or reason to give his ideas to, and a while since he's had any, really. Other people just seem to get it right a lot more than he does, and he'd rather just follow along. "I don't - I don't like staying still," he explains, his feet already tapping against the ground, fingertips tracing over the skin of his other hand, almost as if he's ready to tear it off at a moment's notice. 

Even nods, and stands. "I will sacrifice my legs for this mission," he says gravely. "Let's go." 

"You don't have to-" 

"But I'm going to," Even says, and it's final. 

 

*

 

"So she left when you were, what, fourteen?" Even starts up the conversation again a few minutes later, just as Isak was starting to relax again. 

"Fifteen. Pretty much as soon as she finished school."

Even doesn't reply with more than a nod, and Isak doesn't know whether he's tricking him into filling the silence, but it works, if he is. Isak doesn't know himself as someone who fills silence, but this story's at the forefront of his mind while Lea's home, and Even's giving him a chance, and - it just tumbles out of him before he can think about the consequences. 

"It's not like I blame her," he explains. "I mean, home was shit. Dad kept disappearing on us, mum wasn't really - there - most of the time. She refused help, back then, and it was just - shit. So Lea did the right thing, for herself. I just - I don't know. It's just - It's more that I shouldn't blame her," he amends. "But I kind of do."

After it's out, he momentarily shuts his eyes as if it'll shut out the regret. 

Even's shoulder brushes his own. 

He can't find any sign of it being deliberate, but aren't they walking too close beside each other? Should Isak move further to the side, is this his fault? Even hasn't even reacted.

Isak tries not to, either, but it's a little late for that. 

He’s been talking about himself for too fucking long, anyway, and it’s - he’s supposed to talk about Even at some point - he _wants_ to talk about Even, to know him and understand him and - something. He just has no idea where to start.

“Do you have sisters?” he tries, then cringes at the clumsy wording. “Or brothers, or - anything?”

Even doesn’t pick him up on it. Maybe it doesn’t matter to him like it does to the fucking spirals in Isak’s brain, but even with the comfort of that thought, he knows it’ll come back later. How fucking stupid he sounded.

“No, it's just me,” he says. “Or - my mum would probably say that June was like a big sister, but - I don’t know.”

It impresses Isak, how easily he says her name without flinching. Sure, it’s been a while, but - it doesn’t seem possible. Not that Isak thinks Even doesn’t miss her, but to reach the point where it doesn’t hurt to think about her?

It’s nice to imagine he might get there himself, but it’s easy to believe he won’t.

Especially not with tonight being what it is. With his mum being maybe the only thing they’ll talk about - the only thing they have in common anymore - though, do they even have that? Lea makes it seem not.

And it’s going to sting, Isak can hear it now, his dad, _I miss her just as much as you do, Isak._  

Yeah? Then why didn’t you make more of a fucking effort with her?

But he won’t say that. He’ll just sit in his silent anger, and pray for the evening to be over fast. 

“Big sisters aren’t that great,” Isak says, a few seconds too late for it to be witty, but at least he’s said something. Letting silence stretch just adds to his anger.

Even smiles. “No, I hear they’re loud.”

“Yeah,” Isak says, and then can’t think of a single other thing to add. And - it’s okay, it’s not as if the conversation is going to fizzle forever - they’re in the middle of the park, the only way they can walk is together, but it’s - he’ll get frustrated at the silence, and then he might take it out on Even, and it’s not like Even hasn’t seen that happen before, Isak’s frustration, but he wants to show that he’s trying not to let it anymore. 

Above all, the silence is proving to him that he isn’t good at this. This - talking thing, having conversations. He can stumble his way through some, but more often than not, he just hits some invisible wall where he doesn’t know what else to say. 

Maybe it’s something about Even, but it’s not like Isak doesn’t want to be here. It’s not like he doesn’t feel calm by his side - or, does he? Isn’t that weird?

“What time is the meal?” Even asks. “Do you need to go home first?”

“No, I -” he wishes he knew why Even was asking. Is it because he wants to find an excuse to end this, so that he can leave? Or is it some other reason, some other reason that exists only in Isak’s hopes. To see if they have more time.

But that wouldn’t be it.

“I’m meeting them in, like, an hour and a half,” Isak says. “I wasn’t gonna go home, it’s in the opposite direction, but - you don’t have to, uh...”

“I hope you’re not trying to make me abandon my mission,” Even teases, and it’s enough to coax a smile onto Isak’s face. 

“I mean, you already sacrificed your legs. You can stop if you want.”

“If I want.”

Isak hesitates. “Don’t you?” He’s not sure what answer he’s hoping for, much less what answer he’s expecting, but even so what he hears doesn’t really surprise him.

“No, I don’t,” Even says, and looks around them. “The trees are nice.”

Isak follows suit, and looks around. “Yeah,” he says, and it’s not just to make Even happy, but it doesn’t hurt to see the pride on his face. “They are.”

“Calming, right?”

Isak rolls his eyes. “Do you want me to arrange for a “mission success” sign now or later?”

“I want it on my desk by monday morning at the latest.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

 

*

 

Maybe he is good at it. Having conversations - when he's calm enough. Somewhere from the back of his mind he manages to find the subject of one conversation last weekend, one that Even got so excited about, and there's a way for Isak to ask him about it now. Even lights up at it, and talks loudly and brightly for what feels like ages, but in the best way. Isak much prefers to listen. 

He's calm and distracted enough that the next bench they come to, he sits, and Even sighs gratefully and slumps next to him 

"I'm not cut out for exercise," he says. "I'm a film student. I'm meant to spend all day inside in front of the TV." 

"But then how would you get to know how calm trees make you?" 

"House plants," Even replies as if he had the answer ready, then seems to reconsider. "Even though I always end up killing them, and that doesn't help my stress levels.”

He pauses a moment, probably for Isak to speak, but he’s forgotten again - doesn’t know what more to add than “that sucks,” which gets him a smile, but it doesn’t do anything for the conversation.

“Yeah,” Even agrees. “But maybe you could keep them alive. Do you have any?”

Isak shakes his head. "I had a -" he pauses, then wonders if he can say - "uh, mum bought me a plant that you’re meant to grow yourself when I first moved in to my apartment but I - it actually just didn't grow. I don't know what I did wrong."

"Did you water it?" Even teases. 

"No, I wanted to be the first ever owner of a live plant that doesn't need water."

"That'll be the problem then," Even nods as if he's giving the best advice in the world. "You've gotta add water." 

"Thanks, I had no idea." 

There's a second of silence in which Isak holds down his laughter, but as soon as Even laughs, he does too. Maybe it's not that funny, but he knows he's thought this before, that it's nice to laugh with Even. So maybe he makes it last longer than it needs to, but it's not like Even stops him. 

 

*

 

They reach the edge of the park just before six. Nearly two hours together - three if KB counts - and for the most part it's gone by so fast and so easy that Isak sort of just feels like he's blinked. 

"Which way are you going?" Even asks, turning to Isak. 

Isak tilts his head in the direction of the restaurant, and Even nods. 

"Opposite way to me, then, " he says, and maybe he's sad about it. "I'll see you - are you working tomorrow?" 

Isak takes a breath in before he answers. It's not that he doesn't want Even to show up, in fact it's the opposite. It's kind of scary how much he wants him to show up. But it wouldn't be fair, anyway. 

"Saturdays are always really busy," he says, leaving it open for Even to decide, hoping either way. 

"Oh, yeah. Makes sense," Even says, and this time there's definitely a hint of disappointment. "Well - I'm working on tuesday, if you want coffee. You can tell me how tonight goes." 

He doesn't offer his number so that Isak can check in - Isak isn't sure what he'd say if he did, but he knows it'd be a simpler solution. He doesn't bring it up, though. It's still in the back of his mind that he can't, it'd be too - something. 

"Okay," is what he says instead. "Yeah, tuesday." 

Even smiles. "I hope it goes alright," he says, and then Isak's mind races because he reaches forward, pulling at the collar of Isak's jacket with careful fingers, straightening it out and grazing across the bare skin of his neck as he does. He catches Isak's eye and smiles again, warmer, this time. Softer, and something else too, but Isak can't quite grasp what. "See you, Isak." 

It's still nice to hear his name from someone else's lips. 

 

*

 

He’s early to the restaurant, like he knew he would be. Looking at his phone, he predicts how it’ll go - it’s 18:24, now. His dad will be perfectly, exactly on time at 18:30, just to prove how good he is at spending quality time with his children. Lea will be ten - no, twelve minutes late, at least. 18:43, maybe. There’s no one here to bet on it with, though he briefly imagines it as something he’d do if Even were here, but Isak has never been able to have that sort of easiness with his father.

He switches to the clock app and counts down the seconds. 18:28:38. 1 minute and twenty two seconds, and his dad will be through the door and fuck, he’ll expect more than just a handshake. Isak should have started building himself up for that before now.

And then, he turns up a full minute early. Isak isn't sure what difference it makes, but it's as if he’s being strangled instead of hugged when he stands from the table to greet his father. 

"Good to see you, Isak," is the first thing he says, to which Isak mumbles a "yeah, you too," while stubbornly avoiding eye contact. 

It's one of those times when, actually, it's not a bad thing that Lea's loud. Isak wants her here because she always has something to say, she can fill the uncomfortable silence - with still uncomfortable words, but as long as the focus is off Isak, that's what's important. He just wishes she’d be on time.

"How've you been?" his dad is smiling, engaging, and Isak has never wanted so much to disappear. He can hear the accusation somewhere beneath the words, the _you haven't replied to my texts, where have you been, are you okay?_ and of course, at some level, he does care about the answer, but it's fucking performative, and it doesn't make up for anything. 

“You know, I’ve been a little worried about you,” he continues, and _fuck_ , Isak didn’t think he’d actually say it out loud, and this early into the evening. “When you stopped replyng to my texts, I thought you might have run off and joined the circus like your sister.” He laughs as if he’s made some hysterical joke, and Isak joins in half heartedly. 

It’s actually a running joke, for his dad. He probably thinks it classes as an inside joke, the way he joked about it when she first left, telling anyone who asked that that was what had happened before chuckling to himself and telling the truth. He probably thinks Isak actually finds it funny.

“Yeah, no,” Isak says. He’s already fucking exhausted. “I’ll let you know if that happens.”

He’s actually not sure he would. If, one day, he got the courage to cut ties with everything, everyone, properly this time, and just moved far away - he’s no idea where - he might not say a word to his dad until he was far enough away not to care.

But he doesn’t want to leave, he never really has. It just feels as though it might be easier, sometimes. Like maybe he wouldn’t have to feel anything in a different country. A different language. It’d be a good distraction.

“Lea’s late, of course,” is the next thing his dad says with an attempt at a laugh, as though he knows he shouldn’t have brought that other stuff up. He looks at his watch. “I’ll text her.”

Isak looks at his own watch. It’s only been six minutes. 

A minute later, his dad looks up from his phone with a smile. 

“She’s five minutes away,” he announces. Isak could have told him that. Not that he would, but he’s grateful that the subject’s moved on, anyway.

And then, just to prove Isak wrong, to prove that he didn’t understand not to talk about it, he goes back to the subject.

“Really, though, Isak. Please could you reply to me at least sometimes? I know we haven’t always - well, anyway, but I do worry about you. And with your mum - you know, it can be genetic, sometimes. I just want to know you’re okay.”

Everything inside Isak freezes and tenses and boils over with rage all at once. He can’t - he can’t say stuff like this - he can’t think he has any right to fucking - it’s not even - it’s not fucking fair -

And Isak doesn’t, anyway, he’s not - like that, he’s -

He’s fucking fine.

He just wants to be left alone.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....
> 
>  
> 
> zoop bloop


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ummmmm guess who really should have put more thought into this or at least maybe edited but ALAS  
> enjoyyyyyyyyyy

It’s as though every time he says he’s fine, someone has to come along and tell him that he isn’t. That he can’t be.

But dinner’s okay after Lea arrives. His dad gets distracted asking her about “the circus” and she exchanges glances with Isak that make him angry, yes, but they also make him so fucking nostalgic, and even still a little thrilled. He was always seeking her approval when he was little, and it’s not that he wants it anymore, god knows he doesn’t want it from her, but maybe he does. Just a little.

Most of the evening passes in uncomfortable silence and occasional waves of quickly pushed down anger at something that one of them said, but he doesn’t react. Doesn’t do much more than excuse himself to go to the toilet halfway through the meal, so that he can breathe in the silence and check his phone and briefly regret that he doesn’t have Even’s number before he replies to Jonas’s  _ everything going alright? _ with a half hearted  _ yeah. could be worse. _

He can’t stay too long in here, he’d be noticed, and even if not for that, the lack of windows and the chemical overly clean bathroom smell is getting to him more than he can handle.

But then, going back out might be worse. He has to comfort himself with thoughts of walking home, resetting himself with the steady rhythm of his feet on the ground and maybe a phantom brush of Even’s elbow against his, or a hand against his neck.

He shivers involuntarily, then pushes the thoughts away. It’s going too far for what he can handle, now, too far for what he should allow himself to think about - instead of objective thoughts on Even’s laugh or his warmth, it’s close subjects like how he acts around Isak, how sometimes, it feels deliberate when they touch. 

But it’s not. It shouldn’t be. Isak is far too tired for that sort of thing. He won’t add water, won’t give it sunlight. It’s just safer. He just wants to be left alone.

And it’s not the right time to think of it, anyway. It’s starting to get chaotic in his head when all he should really be doing is switching over to autopilot and sitting back down with his family.

It's what he does, and it's okay if he doesn't think about it. If he doesn't let himself react to their words, he can almost believe they're not saying anything at all. 

Lea reminds him, as they're leaving, that he can't walk home. Or, not that he can't, exactly. She could get there fine by herself, but she'd react in a way that would make her seem not fine, and she'd repeat and repeat it until Isak had to believe her. 

They walk to the tram together, and Isak has done this enough now to know that it's probably only Jonas and Even that he can feel calm walking beside. Or - she's definitely not someone who fits that criteria, so. 

She tries to talk to him - talks at him, and he replies with half hearted laughter and nods to show he heard. 

"Dad was on form tonight, wasn't he?" she says sarcastically after a while - which is strange, because Isak hadn't thought that she wasn't enjoying herself at dinner. She was smiling and laughing her way through, besides the few irritated glances she'd shared with Isak, she'd seemed fine. "God, he's not one to take any responsibility for fucking our lives up when we were kids, is he?" 

"No, that was mum's fault," Isak says, surprising himself by understanding her. "He did the best he could, obviously." 

"Oh yeah, of course. He never wanted to hurt us, he just thought we might be better left alone with her." 

That's more familiar, the way it doesn't sit right with Isak, how Lea says "with  _ her."  _ But he senses her looking over at him after she says it, and her shoulders sink as she sighs. 

"I did care about her, Isak," she says. "And about you. I know I messed up too when I left." 

"You did the exact thing that dad did." It's not an accusation. More of just a statement, in the hopes that she'll get it. 

"Yeah, I did," she's quiet, for once. Then loud again, speaking with a laugh. "In my defense, we weren't exactly taught healthy coping mechanisms as kids!" 

Isak doesn't respond, and her laugh fades. 

"I'm sorry," she says. "I was young. Everything was fucking terrifying and I had the chance to go to a whole different country and be as far away as I could be. I didn't know what else to do. I'm sorry," she repeats. 

Isak just shrugs. "I get it." 

They get to the tram stop, the sign telling them 6 minutes blinking above them and no one else around. Lea sits on the bench under the shelter, and Isak stays standing, hands in his pockets, kicking his feet a little. 

"I left her too," Isak points out, finally admitting to the guilt at the back of his mind, though Lea already knows what he did. "Guess we were all shit." 

Lea sighs, more with him than at him. "I can't even apologise to her." 

"You could have. You could have come to her funeral." 

She doesn't reply at first, just looks down at her feet. 

"I - I couldn't." 

Isak exhales heavily, but doesn't have anything good to say to that. He could get angry again, like he wants to, but what's the point?

There isn't one. This is just - how it is, now. Lea didn't come back for the funeral, and Isak blames her for everything, but he does get it. After everything, he gets it. 

The tram arrives. He gets on first, finds a seat next to a window, and she sits on the seat facing him but next to the aisle. Not too close. 

She puts one foot half on the seat next to him, and smiles slyly at him. He raises an eyebrow, shakes his head, then mirrors her. 

They don't talk anymore until they get back to Isak's apartment, but it's okay. She’s okay. 

 

*

 

In the morning, she knocks on his door. She's holding a bunch of flowers, must have already been out to buy them. 

"I - the wedding doesn't start until two," she says, hesitant. "I think I'm gonna - see mum before it. Do you want to come with me?" 

He really, sort of, doesn't. That's - the cemetery is his place - was his place, for being alone, uninterrupted, calm. He's not sure he can handle it with her. 

But then he really doesn't have a good reason why not. 

The daisies are gone. Replaced by the flowers that Lea has. She places them down gently and spends a second staring at the writing on the stone. 

"God, it makes it seem so - final, doesn't it?" she says, and Isak remembers she's never seen it before. "There's a fucking end date on her life." 

Isak shifts uncomfortably from where he stands. That's how it's been for more than two years, now. Isak's used to it. He doesn't even remember what he thought the first time he saw it. 

Lea stands back next to him, and through her heavy breathing and the slight shake of her shoulders, he starts to realise she's crying. 

He doesn't know what to do about it, but he puts his arm around her shoulder because maybe it'll help. She leans into him, and he's more tense than he's ever been, but she calms. 

"Thanks for coming with me," she says after a while. "I guess we should go back now. I have a wedding to get ready for." 

 

*

 

She leaves at midday the next day. Isak hugs her, and surprises himself by promising to text her more often. 

He surprises himself even more by being a little sad that she's gone so soon. 

 

*

 

It's still more of a relief than he's ever felt, having his apartment back to himself. It doesn't take long to tidy up and put everything away and make it feel familiar again. 

Ad he actually smiles when he sees a text from Jonas on his phone -  _ yoooo wanna get kebab? asap? im so hungry _

He replies with a simple  _ fuck yeah.  _

 

*

 

"It went okay actually," he says to Jonas later. "I think she - kind of - apologised?" 

They're sitting on the bench where they always sit, and Jonas has been itching to bring his family up since they met outside the kebab shop, Isak can just tell. But for whatever reason, he hasn’t until now. Whether that’s because he agrees with Even, and thinks that Isak is breakable, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to think about it.

“Really?” Jonas replies. “Woah. Didn’t think she had that in her.”

Isak nods. “Yeah. But - to be fair to her, you and I don’t really know her as well as we think we do. She’s not great, but,” he shrugs. “She’s okay.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Jonas says. “But I think I’m still bitter about that one time she beat me on Mario Kart, remember that? We were like, twelve. I’ve never forgiven her.”

“And you never will, I remember,” Isak finishes with a laugh. “But it was you that chose Rainbow Road.”

“It was not!” Jonas protests. “You went out of the room while we chose and she convinced you it was me when you came back.”

“No, that can’t be it, I wouldn’t believe her over you.”

“You absolutely would.”

“Liar.”

“That’s what she told you when we were twelve, too.”

 

*

 

**Lea:** _ hey issy, just wanted to let you know i’m home safe! thank you so much for putting me up/putting up with me this weekend, it was so lovely to see you _

_ give me a ring sometime if you’d like to, we can chat and catch up<3 _

**Isak:** _ hey lea, glad you’re home safe, thanks for texting _

_ I’ll ring sometime<3 _

 

*

 

Monday comes and he’s exhausted, as though everything has just finally caught up with him from the last week. 

And, more than exhausted, he’s kind of empty. Like he’s felt everything he could possibly feel these past few days and his brain hasn’t had any time to produce any more emotions for him. All he can do is drag himself to the sofa and turn on netflix and then stare at the home screen for a while because he doesn’t know what the hell he’s in the mood for. He’s not in any mood. He barely feels like a person.

He gets through the day. It doesn’t feel like enough, but it’s all he does.

 

*

 

He promised to see Even on tuesday, and he’s not going to go back on the promise. Besides, he knows as soon as he’s out of the house, and reset himself by walking, he’ll be fine. He’ll feel like a person again, and he can smile with Even and he’ll probably just be a bit more alive.

But he does wonder what would happen if he didn’t show. Would Even notice? Isak believes he would - doesn’t mind if he’s believing in a lie, because that’s what people do to make themselves feel better, and no one ever has to know about these thoughts he has. He barely even admits them to himself.

The walk to KB takes longer than normal. Maybe because he’s more desperate for it to be over than usual. He still doesn’t feel like a person by the end of it, but he does see Even.

He’s - quieter than usual today. In his uniform, behind the counter, and there’s a smile, but it’s not one of the smiles Isak knows. With Even, there’s his real smile - the warm, gentle one - and there’s the fake smile - bright, insincere, but there with good intentions, there because he wants to be able to brighten people’s days. 

But this smile is different. It’s not fake because he wants people to be happy even when he’s - something else - it’s fake in the way that he’s only smiling because he has to. Because it’s his job. 

He’s not brightening the room - or, he kind of is. Isak doesn’t think there’s any possible way that he could stop brightening the room, now, but - he’s duller than usual. Like someone gave him a rain cloud this morning instead of the sunshine that he should have gotten.

That’s okay. Isak might have an umbrella somewhere.

He approaches slowly - not too slow, but in a way that he hopes is gentle. He doesn't want to take up too much space, because Even probably needs it more. 

Fuck. Even is so much better at this than he is. 

"Hey," Isak says, smiling in the way he always smiles, never real enough even when it's sincere. "You -" He stops himself from leading with "you okay?" because he's never the first to ask that. 

Even smiles back, a little more real than it had been a second ago. "Hi," he says, exhaustion falling into his voice. "How are you?" 

Isak nods. "Yeah, good thanks, you?" 

Even shrugs. "Just tired," he says. "I feel like you can tell." 

Isak widens his eyes and shakes his head as if the blatant lie will make Even feel any better - and, in fact, it does seem to. Even lets out a quiet laugh. 

"Thanks," he says. "Anyway, what can I get you?" 

Isak orders while simultaneously getting distracted by thoughts. If this were Isak, tired at work, he wouldn't want anyone around, especially not friends who had expectations from him. Not that he has any expectations of Even - it's just nice to be in his company, but - he's not sure how to tell Even that. 

He says it out loud when Even hands him his drink. 

"Would you rather I wasn't here?" 

It sounds clumsy, like everything he says, but there's not much he can do about it. Even shakes his head. 

"No, stay. If you're around I'll forget that I'm tired." 

Isak raises an eyebrow. It's not that he thinks Even is lying, it's just that he does think he might be wrong. 

"Having people around always reminds me that I'm tired," Isak says. "Are you sure?" 

Even nods, then gives a sly glance, as if he's about to tease. Sure enough - "I think I like people more than you do." 

Isak rolls his eyes. 

"I like people fine," he says. "You just - you're - I don't know." 

"Weird?" 

"Yeah."

It's silent between them for a while, but it's comfortable. There's a not-quite-grin on Evens face that says he's not offended, and the playlist quiet in the background playing something Isak doesn't recognise, but it suits Even in a way that makes sense in Isak’s head. 

"So - how was it on Friday?" Even says eventually. 

Isak tenses a little, fixes his gaze on the floor, his hands struggling for something to do to distract him from answering the question. "It was okay. Or - Lea was. We talked, I guess, so, yeah, that was good."

He looks up a few seconds later and sees Even being gentle with him, reminding him that he's not being fair - he was the one that was trying to be gentle. And - he doesn't need anyone to be gentle with him. It's too much like sympathy.

"It was fine," he shrugs. "She's gone now." 

"Good," Even says.

"Yeah," Isak replies. 

It's pretty clear how much of the conversation Even is usually responsible for. But Isak wanted to - help, to distract, if Even thinks he can do that. 

He tries to recall some, any of their conversation on Friday, to see if he can add to it. He wants to offer Even a walk in the park with the trees to help him feel better - although stress doesn't really seem to be the problem. Maybe that's what he needs to work out. 

"Why are you so tired?" He asks, and immediately regrets the way it comes out, as though it’s an accusation, and even if Even doesn't hear it like that, maybe he doesn't want to talk about it. 

Even just shrugs. "I just am. aren't you ever - just - tired?" 

Isak's about to agree until he remembers that it might not be just tiredness for Even - and he doesn't want to validate anything his dad said or implied or thought at the dinner. He just shrugs, and Even copies. 

"It's not because of anything," Even says, as if he knows. "I really am just tired." 

Isak presses his lips shut and nods. He doesn't rationally believe that Even is tricking him into admitting to anything that's not true, but - but  _ what if.  _

He is just tired. Of his fucking thoughts. 

He looks around just for something to talk about.

"I've worked it out," he says, quietly, smiling. "There's no plants in here." And then, "there's no plants at the bar either." 

It doesn't take him. much to work out that, despite the fact that he's barely been able to hold a conversation without Even leading it, he's kind of sad about it. 

"Yeah," Even says. "I think I - should go home after this anyway. Get some sleep." 

Isak nods, unsure what more to say, though maybe he needs to reassure Even that he’s not upset by this - he gets it, he knows what it’s like, he understands Even wants to be by himself - and it makes sense, that he only wanted Isak here while he has to be here, too. It’s fine.

“I bought a cactus, too, so that's at home,” Even says. “Theoretically it’s very hard to kill.”

“Theoretically.”

Even pretends to scowl at Isak, then laughs a little. “Well, yeah, either I kill it, or Greta ends up doing it for me. Knocking things over is her favourite thing to do.”

"She's a cat, isn't it part of the job description?" 

"Yeah. She's the best." 

"You just said she kills all your plants." 

"We all have our flaws." 

 

*

 

"I have to go now," Isak forces it into a gap in the conversation, reluctant as he is to admit it. 

Even glances at the clock behind him, and his eyebrows flick up. "Woah. That went fast." 

Maybe it's not something that Isak should take credit for, but he smiles to himself anyway, imagining that it is. 

Even speaks again, quiet. "Thanks for staying with me."

"It's okay. It was nice." 

"Yeah, it was." 

Isak starts to stand, then remembers. "You know - it's only really Fridays and Saturdays that the bar is really busy."

He's not quite ready to invite Even, but he is ready to want him there. Because he does. 

He gets the response he needs, anyway. A smile.

“I’ll see how I feel tomorrow.”

Isak nods, and something rises up inside him - he’s not sure what, but maybe - maybe he doesn’t want to leave. Maybe he doesn’t want Even to be by himself - which he isn’t, really, there are people around, and - but he doesn’t want to leave. He wants Even to feel okay, and to feel better tomorrow.

But he has a job to get to. And bills, and stuff, so he can’t just not go. 

All he can do is - and maybe it’s too much, but -

Fuck it.

“Will you text me when you’re home?”

His heart thumps now that he’s finally given in to that desire. To be able to talk to Even when he’s not there - and maybe Isak will have to explain that he doesn’t always reply that fast but he’ll do that later, because if Even texts him tonight, he’ll reply. 

“If you give me your number,” Even replies, with a lopsided grin that almost masks his tiredness completely.

His hands still shake at the thought of actually typing his number into Even’s phone, it’s just - too - but he distracts the atmosphere by talking.

“I was actually just expecting you to text every number chronologically until you found the right one,” he says as he takes Even’s phone from his outstretched hand.

“Right, yeah, that’s the most logical thing to do, I forgot.”

“Yeah,” Isak laughs lightly. “But I guess this’ll do.”

He saves himself as  _ Isak _ . Maybe most people would put something more fun, an emoji, or some nickname. He doesn’t really know how to do that, and if he gets it wrong, it’s just - more than he can handle.

But this is enough. And Even takes his phone back with an “I’ll text you,” and a soft smile that Isak will overthink later, and it feels okay. To know that Even will be.

It’s enough.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall mind if i....drop a 5k chapter on u at 11:30 am?  
> mild spoilers for wall-e ahead, which is of course a movie that relies heavily on plot twists and shock value and if you know what happens, its ruined forever.  
> enjoyyyyyyyyyyyyy

Isak finds himself smiling at his phone half an hour into his shift. 

 **Unknown Number (18:32):** _Hey, it's Even. I'm home and the cactus is still alive. Thanks for today 😊🌵_

 **Isak (18:33):** _hey even, glad to hear it. thanks for letting me hang with you 😎_

He's not sure about the emoji, but he sends it anyway because Even did. 

And he saves him as "Even 🌵" because he can't get it wrong on his own phone. Or - he sort of feels like he could, actually, but the cactus emoji is the safe option. Between that and all the other emojis that he scrolls past, the ones that jump out to his attention and scare him half to death with the idea.

Yeah. The cactus is fine. 

He half wants, half expects Even to continue the conversation, but five minutes pass, and nothing comes, to the point where, despite the fact that there are only two customers in the bar, he can’t hang out in the back room waiting for his phone to buzz any longer. 

But maybe tomorrow. Maybe Even will text tomorrow.

 

*

 

He doesn’t, and nor does he show up at the bar - which is fine, it’s fine, if he’s still not feeling well, then it’s fine for him not to show. It’s what he needs, to let himself recover.

But Isak checks his phone every time he has a spare minute, with a half hearted excuse that he’s waiting for an important email from someone - which sparks the rumour around the regulars that he’s getting a new job. 

He laughs it off, and goes back to thinking about Even. 

It’s not so much a refuge anymore, to think about him. Not so much peaceful as something else, maybe - worry? Is he allowed to worry about Even? Is that patronising? And, does he even want to worry about him?

He could text, but that’s too much, to be the first to text. He just wants to know that Even’s okay, that he’s not -

He’s probably busy.

It’s fine.

 

*

 

It’s just that - he assumed that when Even got his number that he’d text more often, maybe non-stop. And it’s fine, it’s not like he has to do what Isak assumes he’ll do, but - well, maybe it was more than an assumption. Maybe it was hope.

But that doesn’t sound right to Isak. He doesn’t like texting people, he _hates_ being texted. He deleted all of his social media for a reason. 

Even doesn’t come to the bar on thursday, and Isak does the same thing as yesterday, obsessively checks his phone for something, anything.

At 22:13, he gets a text, and his heart jumps and falls in the space of two seconds as he reads who it’s from.

 **Eskild** **(22:13):** _baby jesus, how gay friendly is your bar? i know you work there but sometimes you manage to have ASTOUNDING straight energy when you want to. ANYWAY, just want to come and see you because i miss you, you promised you would get in touch more often AND YET where have you been for two months? disappeared again!_

Isak half laughs, half sighs at the message, but can’t bring himself to respond immediately - he has no idea what to say, and he’s not sure whether he can handle Eskild coming here. Maybe he’ll agree to see him, though. Sometime.

 

*

 

Is it weird for him to go back to KB on friday? He wants to pause and think about it, but he’s walking out the door before he can stop himself.

Walking doesn’t calm him today, though. It spins his mind round in a haze because he doesn’t know what else to think about than where Even’s gone. Maybe Isak did something wrong, upset him somehow. Maybe when he asked Isak to stay with him last time it was just politeness. Or - maybe he really is just tired. Or more than just tired.

Maybe Isak shouldn’t be thinking about how his mum died right now.

And how he could have done more, how he could have paid attention to her, to the signs, realised that it wasn’t just that she was busy or lost her phone like she often did. 

Or maybe Even _has_ lost his phone. There must be a rational explanation to counteract all of Isak’s irrational thoughts here. 

But he’s not there, at KB. Isak walks inside and there are two people behind the counter, talking to each other, one of them Ellie, the girl from last week, the other, Isak doesn’t recognise. 

Even’s not there.

“Oh, hey!” Ellie says when she sees Isak. “You’re Even’s free coffee guy, right?”

Isak nods, unsure how else to respond. “Is he here?” he asks quietly.

She frowns. “No, I thought he would’ve told you. He called in sick this morning. Sorry.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I’ll uh, I’ll just-” Spiral, probably.

“Can I get you anything? Don’t know if I can do it for free, though, Even didn’t tell me if it was a one time thing.”

“Yeah, no, it’s - it’s fine,” Isak says. “Thanks, though.”

He gets two minutes down the street before he pulls out his phone, hands trembling slightly.

 **Isak (14:26):** _hey even, are you ok? i went to kb and they said you called in sick._

 **(14:34):** _if there’s anything i can do let me know_

 **(14:45):** _can i come over? would you feel better if there was someone there?_

The next text he types out but deletes before sending, some badly thought out confession of _i’m sorry i know i panic over stupid shit you’re probably fine i just really need to know you’re okay please text back please please ple-_

He’s on the bench in the park where they sat last week, feet tapping anxiously on the ground, waiting and hoping for a typing bubble to appear, but nothing does.

He could get to Even’s from here. He can sort of work it out in his head, which way to go. It’s ten minutes away, maybe. 

But then - what if he’s not there? What if he doesn’t answer the door? What then?

And - if he doesn’t want Isak there? If this is because Isak did something wrong?

It’s probably Isak’s fault. He says so much without thinking, without realising, he probably said something last time he saw Even, maybe he was weird when he texted, maybe Even understands him too well now and realises how fucked up his thoughts are, maybe he thinks Isak’s smothering him, maybe he doesn’t want anything more to do with him. 

And maybe he’s not home. Maybe he’s not anywhere.

Isak pushes his hands curled into fists to the bottom of his jacket pockets, pushing them against the seams so hard to stop them shaking that the fabric might rip. He’s still going towards Even’s apartment, though, too worked up to be able to think of what other option he has, though at this point he’s convinced the door will be shut in his face.

But then, he doesn’t really believe that of Even. 

Isak doesn’t know what Even does when he’s angry. He hasn’t seen it.

Maybe he doesn’t get angry like Isak does. Maybe he’s just a better person.

Regardless, Isak is outside his door now, checking and rechecking his phone and tapping his heel against the floor and drumming his fingers against his legs. He’s caught spiralling in his thoughts for a while before he even considers ringing the doorbell.

And, before he does - the door opens, and a man hurries through it - and again it’s not Even, but Isak’s hopes rise and crash down once again. 

The man catches sight of Isak, and with a brief nod, he holds the door long enough for Isak to get through with a muttered _thanks_. 

Once he’s inside, he kind of regrets it. It feels a little too much like an invasion of privacy, not giving Even the option to tell him not to come in over the intercom. but he’s here now, so - 

He just needs to remember to breathe. In, out, repeat. He just needs to know Even’s okay.

And he is. He will be. 

And if he’s not -

Isak knocks on the door. and his fingers drum against his leg again.

There’s nothing, no sounds that he can discern, nothing that might suggest movement - maybe the door’s just good at blocking out sound, or maybe -

There’s footsteps. Or, less steps, and more like someone dragging their feet across the floor. But there’s someone there, and the doors opening and Isak isn’t letting his hope rise again this time but who else could it be?

There’s no one else it could be. No one else that it is. 

Even is there, and he’s okay - he looks fucking exhausted, wearing what looks like three hoodies, dark circles under his eyes but he’s there and he’s alive and Isak wants to reach out -

“Isak?”

He laughs self consciously. “Hi, uh, I - sorry, someone let me in downstairs, I just - I went to KB and you weren’t there and you didn’t answer my texts and -" he breathes. "I - uh, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Despite the tiny smile that appears, Even looks like he might start crying. 

Isak looks down at his feet, unsure what he’s meant to do now. “Uh, but, yeah, sorry for disturbing you, I’ll - just -”

“No, stay,” Even half looks like he doesn’t mean it, but the other half looks as though he needs it more than anything. “I mean, if you want.”

Isak hesitates. “Would it help?”

Even bites his lip. “I don’t really know. Most people don’t stay. I’m not that fun to be around.”

It’s all Isak can do to stop himself replying with _but if you manage to hang around with me…_

“I’ll stay.”

 

*

 

They sit at the table in Even's kitchen - Isak having made them both coffees because Even didn't look like he has the energy to stand for long enough. He tried to protest, but it’s so half hearted that Isak just raises an eyebrow. 

Isak looks at the windowsill next to him, and smiles. "Hey, the cactus is still alive, though."

"Yeah, turns out plants survive better when I don't go near them," Even says drily, his cheek resting in one hand as if he's about to fall asleep at the table. 

"Cactuses still need water sometimes," Isak points out. "Or cacti. I don't fucking know."

Greta enters the room, and jumps onto the table with a _mrrp_. 

Even fixes her with a glare. "You know you're not supposed to be up here," he says, making no effort to move her. 

She headbutts his hand, then sits, cleaning her paws. Isak reaches across and strokes her head, and Even smiles at him. 

"You're encouraging bad habits," he says. 

Isak raises an eyebrow. "You've never kicked her off this table in your life." Of course, he doesn't know that, but somehow he does. 

"I -" Even starts to protest, then stops himself with a playful scowl. 

He reaches out to Greta too, scratching her chin as she purrs loudly, leaning her head into Evens hand, then tipping it back to Isak's, as if she can't make her mind up which is better. 

Isak doesn't pull his hand away until a few seconds later when Even's bumps against his after Greta gets overexcited about moving her head. 

Isak clears his throat quietly and wraps his hands back around his coffee cup, gaze fixed down at the table because he doesn't really know if that was awkward or not. 

There’s silence for a few moments, save for the purr coming from Greta.

“Hey, have you ever seen Wall-E?” Even asks, seemingly out of nowhere.

The question makes Isak smile, because, actually -

“Yeah, my sister took me to see it in the cinema when it came out,” he says. “I was obsessed with space, so -" Even doesn't need to know this. "- yeah. Why?”

“I just started watching it before you got here,” Even says. “And the beginning is kind of - depressing as fuck.”

Isak thinks back, and remembers the beginning, with Wall-E all alone on the wasteland that was once Earth. “Oh, yeah, I guess it is.” He can’t help but notice that Even isn’t smiling anymore. “It has a happy ending, though,” Isak tries. “Haven’t you seen it before?”

Even shakes his head. “I wanted to just watch something easy, you know, but then it was - intense, I don’t know.”

Isak understands that. He and Lea used to watch disney movies for the same reason.

He doesn’t know what more to say than it really does get happier, later, but Even speaks first anyway.

“Do you wanna watch it with me?” he asks, and Isak doesn’t know how he could say no to Even right now, even if he wanted to.

He expects Even to lead him into the room where everyone hung out last time Isak was here, but instead, they go into Even’s room. Even falters in the doorway.

“I was - my laptop’s in here,” he says. “We can take it in the other room if you want.”

Isak’s not paying as much attention as he should. His eyes are on those bottom two shelves again, not sure what he should think or feel or do. “Huh? No, it’s - it’s fine,” he says without thinking, and only realises he shouldn’t say that after it’s out, and Even is already slumping down onto the bed, one leg curled up underneath him, opening the laptop in front of him. Isak is still across the room, but manages to move, one step at a time, over to the opposite side of the bed to Even, perching carefully on the very edge, both feet still firmly on the floor in case he needs to - escape?

The screen loads on Wall-E following the laser on the ground, and Even looks over at Isak.

“I can start it again if you want,” he says, and finally Isak relaxes, leaning back against the headboard.

“No, I’ve seen it before,” he says. “I won’t put you through it again.”

Even laughs quietly, gratefully. “Okay,” he says, and presses play.

It's nice, watching a movie with Even. Calmer than he thought it would be, easier to be in his space with him. Even seems to breathe a sigh of relief the moment that Wall-E finds Eve, and Isak smiles at the nostalgia of it all in a way that he wouldn't have done a few days ago. 

When the spaceship leaves Earth, and Wall-E looks around with the planets and the stars reflecting in his eyes, Even turns to Isak. 

"So you used to be obsessed with space?" He asks, smile tired but still teasing. 

Isak wants to bite back at the teasing, scowl at Even and tell him to shut up and watch the movie, but he also wants to talk - and, he thinks - if he's allowed to think it - that Even wants to talk too, and listen, and be distracted. 

"Yeah, I did," he says. "It was - I mean, it wasn't really an obsession, exactly, but it was one of those things that, I don't know, I guess everyone associated it with me when I was a kid so I ended up just getting a ton of space stuff for birthdays and stuff, and, yeah. I liked it. Mostly because I had a ton of Guardians of the Galaxy comics."

"Was that what you wanted to be when you grew up? A Guardian of the Galaxy?" 

Isak raises an eyebrow. "Don't be ridiculous, they're fictional." He laughs. "I wanted to be an astronaut, ideally the first person on Jupiter, until Lea told me it was made of gas and I couldn't walk on it." 

Even makes a sympathetic noise, and Isak laughs it off. 

"I think it was after I stole one of her Barbies for my spaceship, so you know. Payback." 

“Like, the barbie was being abducted by the spaceship?”

“No, the barbie was flying the spaceship.”

“Ah, yeah. I always thought they looked like aliens.”

“Right?”

They laugh quietly together, and turn their attention back to the film, watching in silence for a while, relaxing more until they both get comfortable on the bed, the laptop in between them but their shoulders almost together. Even is almost falling asleep, by the looks of it, his head nodding to the side, almost on Isak's shoulder. 

Isak's not going to move him, but his heart is thudding in his ribcage. So much could go wrong. 

He can't give a name to his panic, doesn't know what it is he's scared of, but something could happen. Something, and it's making his chest tight and his heart loud and his hands shake in anticipation. 

Even wakes himself anyway, and shifts away, and Isak's heart must have moved higher than it should while it was thumping, because it falls when Even moves away. 

When Even is alert again, Isak realises that watching his reactions out of the corner of his eye is better than watching the movie. The widened eyes when the escape pod is launched, or the little smile on his face when the two robots dance together in space. 

Even turns to Isak again when the captain of the ship waters the wilting plant. 

"See, even he knows you have to water them," he says, and Isak can see the exhaustion still but at the same time he seems so alive when he's teasing Isak, like its something that Isak would bear nonstop for the light in Even's eyes when he smiles. 

Or - whatever. It's just nice. 

“Yeah, I forgot to plant mine in a boot, too,” Isak replies. “Guess I’m just not cut out for looking after plants.”

"Well. Maybe neither of us are." 

Isak half smiles. Even half smiles back. It's kind of awkward, and mostly just comfortable. 

It’s getting kind of cold, though. Or maybe it’s just that Isak’s been lying still for a while, and he took his jacket off at the door, and he’s only wearing a tshirt. And - Even doesn’t need any heating on in his apartment, clearly, because he’s wearing probably all of his clothes. 

Isak shivers, and Even shouldn’t notice - because it’s not his job to notice, and if Isak were that tired, he wouldn’t notice anything. Even shouldn’t notice, but he does. 

“Are you cold?” he asks, and Isak tries to shrug it off, but he’s not very good at it. “You can borrow a hoodie if you want.”

“You mean you’re not wearing them all?” Isak says, keeping his voice gentle as he can make it. He can’t resist the dig, but he knows he can’t be too rough with Even. 

Maybe this is how Even always feels around Isak. Is Isak really like this? This tired, this - 

It’s not his place to say what exactly it is. On tuesday, Even said he was just tired. And Isak understands tired. Isak understands Even, but it’s just - not like that, Isak’s not - there’s nothing wrong with his head.

He doesn't want there to be anything wrong with his head. 

"My hoodie collection is impressively extensive," Even replies, and Isak forces himself to stop thinking about it. "They're in the bottom drawer," He gestures to the drawers next to Isak. 

There might be something weird about accepting a hoodie from Even, but - Isak's cold. And Even's offering. He wouldn't offer if it wasn't okay for him to accept. (At least, Isak can hear Eskild telling him that in his head when he was seventeen and didn't think Eskild was being serious about letting him stay.) 

He stands from the bed, and opens the drawer carefully. 

The grey hoodie he takes out is one of the first he comes to, and it looks soft and warm enough and Isak's pretty sure he's seen Even wear it, actually, from the writing on the front, but he might be wrong. 

It _is_ soft, and Isak has to shut his eyes when he puts it on because the scent of Even is overpowering - not in a bad way, or, maybe - how could it be in a good way? It doesn't make sense. 

He turns back to Even, who's sliding further and further down into a horizontal position, and smiling when he sees Isak in the hoodie. 

"Suits you," he murmurs, in a way that sounds as though he wanted to tease, but the words came out so quiet and tired that he just sounded - awed, somehow. 

Isak laughs it off quietly, and moves back next to Even, almost lying down like he is so that they can angle the screen and see it better. 

They don't speak again until the movie ends, at which point Even turns to Isak. 

"I'm glad it had a happy ending." 

"Yeah."

"I thought he wasn't gonna - remember anything, for a minute. That when you said there was a happy ending..." he tails off. 

"I wouldn't lie to you about that," Isak says, and he needs Even to believe him. 

"I didn't think you would, I just -" 

He doesn't finish the sentence, but Isak nods to show that he gets it. To say that it's okay. 

A phone buzzes from somewhere - it must be Even's, because Isak's is in his pocket, and Even is tensing up next to him. 

"Mum always rings twice to trick the do not disturb setting," Even murmurs, his eyes shutting as if to block out the world. "If I don't answer she'll think I'm messed up again." 

He forces himself up and off the bed and picks his phone up from underneath it - quite far underneath it. 

"Hi, mum," he says, almost managing to hide the exhaustion in his voice. "No, I'm fine, don't worry. Just had a bit of a headache." His eyes shut again. Isak can't hear the other side of the conversation but he thinks he probably knows what's being said. "No, you don't have to. I have a friend with me, I'm not by myself." His frustration builds up. "I'm not lying, fu-" he cuts himself off, and sighs a minute later. "I know, mum. Thanks… Yeah, I'll ring her. Okay. Love you. Bye." 

He drops his phone back on the floor and kicks it under the bed again, then flops back face down next to Isak. turning his head so that he can explain to Isak.

"She wants me to ring my therapist," he sighs. "And, like, she's right, I should, but I can make that decision by myself, you know?" 

Isak nods. 

He should really be going now. He starts work in an hour. And Even looks tired, anyway, and - 

"Do you want me to go?" There's something in him, and he wants to deny how loud it is, that is pleading with Even to say no. 

And Even considers him for a moment, then sighs. 

"I just - I don't want you feeling like you have to look after me, or something." He looks down as he says it, as if trying not to catch Isak's eye. But it's not a yes. It's not a no, either, but maybe it wants to be. 

Isak breathes in. "I don't feel like that. I just want to - make sure you're okay." 

And fuck, that's the scariest thing he's admitted to in a long time. 

Even doesn't say anything more. No clarification of whether he meant for Isak to say _okay, I'll go,_ or whether he wanted him to stay. At least, nothing he can be certain of. Even’s gaze flickers up and then away again, and -

It's Isak's phone that buzzes this time. 

 **Eskild (17:01):** _If you don't reply to me I'm just going to assume your bar is full of raging homosexuals and turn up in a feather boa._

 **Isak (17:03):** _Sorry, was busy yesterday._

He looks over at Even, and hopes that he understands the look on his face.

_I don't think I'll be at work tonight but maybe you can come tomorrow?_

He’s never done this before, to fake being ill to get out of work, but he knows Alex has, so it's not like he'd be the first. Alex can manage without him, anyway, he can call their manager and get him to help out if he needs to. They’ll be fine without him.

He texts to tell them he has a migraine and pretends it doesn’t panic him, even a little, to think _what if they find out._ But they’ve no way of knowing, so - but what if they do? But he’s told them now. It’s too late to change his mind. 

 **Eskild (17:04):** _He lives! Tomorrow sounds like a date, hun 😘_

_I'm bringing the crew hope that's okay!_

That’s - a lot to think about, but it’s probably a good thing. Like he told Even last week, saturdays are always busy, but they can entertain themselves without him having to think that they’re bored. Isak can say he’s seen them, and they can believe he wanted to.

And maybe the crew includes Linn. He always got along best with Linn when they lived together, she never demanded conversation, or activity, like Eskild and Noora did. She was good company. Isak kind of misses having that. 

Although, he can’t imagine the bar being her scene unless Eskild drags her there.

He puts his phone back in his pocket and puts the thoughts out of his mind in favour of turning back to Even. With the movie over, they’re lying, facing each other, and there’s no distraction. Nothing to stop Isak thinking about how they’re kind of close, maybe too close, though there’s plenty of space between them. 

He should say something, to get rid of the awkwardness. Or, they should watch another film, or something. Isak’s not good at this. Even deserves someone better here, someone who knows what to say and what to do, someone who can really be there for him. Isak knows he’s going to mess this up.

Even inhales. “Don’t you have to work?” 

Isak just shakes his head, and Even doesn’t ask for an explanation. It’s good, because Isak doesn’t think he could admit to Even what he did, especially not why he did it. 

“But I don’t have to stay, if you want to be alone,” he shrugs, trying not to give away how much he wants to stay. This isn’t about him.

Even shakes his head. "I don't. Not right now." He catches Isak's gaze with eyes wider than normal, nervous, expectant. Maybe he thinks Isak will leave anyway. 

If he does think that, he's wrong. 

"Good," Isak smiles. "I was just getting comfortable here." 

Even lets out a breath of laughter, and turns his face into the pillow. "I'm. so fucking tired," he says. "Like. Too tired to be alive." 

He's mumbling the words he says, in the way that makes Isak think he doesn't actually want them to be heard, but Isak hears them anyway. And understands them, too. 

"But you are alive, though," he says, as always better at giving advice than taking it. "And you won't always be this tired."

"I feel like I will be."

"Yeah. I know. I'll stay with you until you aren't. Or as long as you want me too." 

Even tries a weak smile, one that makes Isak want to reach out and hold him until he feels alive again, but he can't do that. 

"I just want to stay here forever," Even sighs. "I just want the world to pause. Or stop."

Isak hadn't been looking at Even, his eyes on his fingers tracing patterns on the bedsheets between him and Even - until Even said that. It's so close to what Isak's thoughts have been, word for word almost. But now that Isak's moved away from that thought - maybe he'll move back to it, but for now, he's away - it hurts to hear it. As though the words twist around inside his chest, squeezing his lungs tight and forcing his heart against his ribs. 

Isak looks at Even, can't catch his eye because they're  tight shut as if he can't face the world right now, and Isak gets that too. 

He doesn't know what he needed when he felt like that, so there's no way of knowing what Even needs, either. He's just - useless, he should be doing so much more. Someone else could be doing so much more. 

There's no one else here, though. No guidebook, nothing. He's all there is. 

"Is there anything you need?" Isak asks quietly. "Anything I can do?" 

Even sighs. "I don't know. I have a list somewhere of stuff that helps but I don't even know if I want to feel better. I don't want to make you miserable, I just - I don’t know." 

Isak shrugs. "I'm not miserable," he says, and he means it. "I just want you to be okay."

Even hides his face again. 

"We could watch another movie," Isak suggests. "Me and Lea always used to watch Monsters Inc when - we - anyway. It's a good distraction." It's the best Isak can do, and it gets a nod. 

He coaxes Even to sit up a little, the laptop in between them on the bed again, and Even pulls his hoodie strings tight and plays with them throughout the movie, half trying to hide his face and half, Isak thinks, just for a distraction, something to do. Isak gets distracted himself, watching Even. 

They drift closer together somehow, and they don't talk at all during the movie, but by the end, Even's starting to tear up - maybe Isak is too, just a little. 

Even rests his forehead on Isak's shoulder, and he tenses for a fraction of a second, before understanding what Even needs - it's so strange to Isak, but he manages it - to shift his arm so that he can wrap it around Even's shoulder, gently move his hand up and down Even's back in a soothing motion. 

It seems to work. Even calms, little by little. Isak feels as though his body is working against him, calming because Even is calming, and tense because he's too close again - and so he's stuck in a strange middle ground where his body is buzzing all over with some weird kind of energy. It's kind of uncomfortable, and kind of - but it's not about him, anyway. 

"I don't usually cry at movies," Even's quick to explain, and he seems okay enough that Isak can raise an eyebrow at him. 

"Yeah, you do," Isak replies.

Even huffs. "Whatever." 

Isak smiles. "So - what now?" he asks, in his usual clumsy way. "What do you need?" He's trying to be gentle, but he's still learning how to do that. 

He’s learning how to help in any way, but he knows that he does want to. He knows he’ll stay as long as Even needs him.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good helloness to u  
> alas, this is not as long as the last chapter but i hope u enjoy anyhoo  
> i'm dedicating this to bri so that she will get better soon and come back to validate me ;)

It’s late, by the time Isak’s thoughts turn to outstaying his welcome. The thing is, Even hasn’t made him feel like that at all, and the way he’s been, lying, facing Isak with eyes closed and a barely there smile, makes it seem as though he doesn't even think it. Makes it seem he still wants Isak here - and Isak wants to stay, so. He does. 

But it is late, and it's not that Isak wants to go yet, but he should. Should want to, all his past experience would lead him to wanting to go home just because of what he's used to feeling at this point. 

But Even is lying there, calm and peaceful and somewhere close to happiness - closer than he was when Isak first arrived - and they aren't touching anymore, Isak couldn't bring himself to initiate it again after he stood for a minute to make more drinks, but there's something about just being close like this. Just the proximity, the fact that he can see his breathing, the occasional flicker of his eyelids when he looks up and almost catches Isak's eye, the way his fingers curl into the sheets every so often, gripping it tight as he frowns, and every time it happens Isak wants to move closer, say it’s okay, whatever thought he just had, whatever nightmare it was, it's okay. 

He doesn't do that. He stays silent until Even asks him not to be, but he stays with him because Even doesn't tell him to leave. 

But it's probably time, now. For Isak to walk home, and settle his life into normality again. Though, it hasn't been, for a while. Maybe it's not so bad as he thought it would be. 

"I should go," he murmurs quietly, but after so much silence between them it's loud. He wants to add  _ unless- _ but he can’t. 

“You don’t have to,” is the quieter response, and it makes Isak smile, but, tempting as it is to stay, he can’t. 

He doesn’t have a good explanation as to why, just answers by sitting up. “Thanks for letting me stay with you.”

“Thanks for staying,” Even replies, sitting as well. “Sorry I’m not much fun to be around.”

Isak shrugs, smiling still. “We can go paintballing next time to make up for it.” 

Really, he wanted to say  _ I like being around you anyway.  _ But it seems like kind of a lot to admit.

Even laughs quietly. “Sounds like a plan.”

They walk to Even’s front door together, and as Isak is reaching for his jacket, he remembers the hoodie.

“I’ll, uh. I’ll wash this and give it back when I see you next, is that okay?”

It even feels a lot to admit that he will see Even again, for some reason. To admit that he’s counting on it. 

Even simply nods. 

“Okay - and - I’ll text you. You don’t have to reply, but -”

“I’ll try to."

“Thanks.”

“Are you okay with the door downstairs?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll - see you later.”

“Yeah. See you.”

Isak pulls his hand in close to his body to stop himself from reaching out.

 

*

 

He doesn’t wash the hoodie straightaway. He won’t see Even until tuesday at the earliest to give it back, anyway, and it’s - that’s his only excuse.

He doesn’t take it off as soon as he gets home, either, because he’ll get cold. He has other hoodies, yes, but this one is already warm from his body heat, if he put a different one on, he’d have to start all over again. It’s logic, not comfort or emotion that drives his actions. Really it is.

Lying in bed, he almost doesn't check his phone before he sleeps, so convinced that Even won't have texted. But on the off chance, peeking through almost closed eyelids, he presses the home button. 

**Even 🌵(23:32):** _ https://open.spotify.com/track/5oOBJJrBTAQ3WBi1e9iO9J?si=LIYnYR_0RA6OWeEvUeZWfw _

It leads to a song called Lazy Wednesdays by Tapes. The tune is nice, the sound kind of calming, the lyrics declaring  _ don't you forget I'll be fine tomorrow.  _ Isak can imagine Even listening to it, and understanding it in a way that Isak doesn’t often manage with songs like that. 

**Isak (00:43):** _ nice song.  _

**Even 🌵(00:44):** _ I was going to send you something by Gabrielle but I thought I'd start small _

**Isak (00:45):** _ oh so this is part of your mission to get me to listen to your music?  _

**Even 🌵(00:45):** _ is it working?  _

**Isak (00:45):** _ it'll never work _

**Even 🌵(00:45):** _ :( _

_ guess I'll just go to bed _

_ it's getting late anyway _

_ goodnight Isak _

**Isak (00:46):** _ sleep well, even _

 

*

 

He listens to the song again when he wakes up. He’s not really sure what he’s supposed to feel, or why Even sent it to him in the first place - but something compels him to keep listening, even though he’s confused - and frustrated by his confusion, and doesn’t know what to think of it all.

It's from an album called  _ dead dogs and sad songs.  _ He hadn't noticed that last night, but he notices it now, and - well, the song itself doesn't sound that sad, but the thought that Even is listening to something about sad songs is just - it's sad. 

**Isak (11:32):** _hey_

_ did you sleep okay?  _

He doesn't reply straightaway, but Isak forces himself not to worry. It's the morning, Even has his phone under his bed on do not disturb. He's probably okay. 

**Even 🌵 (12:43):** _ I did but I'm somehow still tired.  _

_ did you?  _

**Isak (12:47):** _ yeah _

_ i mean im also still tired but thats nothing new _

He regrets the message almost as soon as he sends it, but it’s too late anyway. And it's not like Even will acknowledge it in the way that Isak fears at this point, or at least, it seems not. He hasn't yet. 

He's glad that Even slept. In the hour that it took him to respond, Isak has thought of every possibility (he's still asleep. He doesn't want to talk to Isak. He's not in the mood to talk to anyone. He never woke up. He never  _ wanted  _ to wake up.) but it's okay now. Even's okay. 

**Isak (12:49):** _ is the cactus still alive?  _

**Even 🌵 (12:53):** _ she actually is  _

_ I named her Boo because I think Greta is scared of her and won't go near her to try and knock her over _

**Isak (12:54):** _ nice so you just have to fill your house with cactuses now _

**Even 🌵 (12:55):** _ cacti _

**Isak (12:55):** _ -_- _

**Even 🌵 (12:55):** _ :D _

The corner of Isak's lips twitch up into a smile. 

 

*

 

He often wonders if he remembers Eskild as louder than he really is, but when he arrives at the bar with Noora and Eva close behind, he doesn't subvert any of Isak's expectations. He's the same whirlwind of a person as he is in Isak's head, loud and overwhelming and amazing, he's amazing, but he's a lot. 

At least he’s not wearing a feather boa. 

There's another guy with them, too, Eskild's arm around his waist. Isak vaguely recalls something being said when he went to kollektivet last, about a guy Eskild was maybe seeing. Daniel, was it? Though, this might not be him. It's been a while, but Isak still knows who Eskild is, how fast he changes his mind and finds something or someone new. 

But maybe that's not who he is now. It's been a while. 

And maybe Isak's not that good of a judge of character, anyway.

All four of them approach the bar - busy enough as it is, and Isak smiles at them - thinks he smiles at them, while Eva and Eskild fall over each other in their excitement, and Noora smiles warmly and maybe-Daniel looks at him strangely. 

Eskild could have told him anything. How fucking annoying and lazy and messy Isak was as a roommate, how much better Noora was and is, how awful he was to Eskild when he was working out the gay thing in the meanest way possible. 

He’s tried to forgive himself for being seventeen, but he can’t even forgive himself for being alive, sometimes. Not like - not like that, just -

Eskild is loud enough to drown out his thoughts. They’ll come back later, anyway. 

“Isak! Come out here and hug your guru!”

Isak rolls his eyes. “I’m working, Eskild.”

Eskild shrugs ands makes a  _ psh _ sound. “Am I not more important?”

Isak ignores him. “What can I get you guys?” he asks, looking more at Noora and Eva.

Eva grins at him, and doesn’t surprise him by ordering a gin and lemonade. Noora doesn't surprise him either, asking for an orange juice. 

Eskild grins when Isak turns to him, and Isak wants to shake his head before he even speaks. "I want to know how good you are at making cocktails," he says excitedly. 

Isak fixes him with an unamused stare. "It's literally part of my job." 

Eventually, they all settle at the same table the boys had chosen last time they all came to the bar - and Isak remembers how much he had distrusted Even back then, how little he had understood him and how much he wanted him to just leave. And now, how sincerely glad he is that he didn't. 

Eva comes back to the bar a few minutes later. "So what do you think of Daniel?" she asks conspiratorially.

"So that is Daniel?" Isak asks. "I heard Eskild talking about him when I went round a few months ago but nothing had happened then." 

"They've only been officially together for a week," Eva says, smiling back at the couple sitting next to each other, Eskild's head falling down onto Daniel's shoulder with a loud adoring sigh. "But unofficially it's been a while. I think they balance each other out pretty well." 

"You mean, Daniel's calm enough to handle Eskild," Isak says. 

Eva smiles. "Yeah. But it's more than that, I think. Daniel was really shy when I first met him. I think Eskild brings out the confidence in him, and he brings out the calm side of Eskild. They're so good for each other. How are you, anyway?" she switches subjects so fast that Isak doesn't even notice at first. 

"Huh? Oh, yeah, me? Fine, how are you?"

"I'm very good, but you're clearly not picking up on my thinly veiled hint to tell me about your love life." 

Isak shrugs. "There isn't one?" 

"No?" 

Isak shakes his head,with what he hopes comes across as a half apologetic expression. 

"Do you want there to be one?" 

"I don't - think - so?" Isak says hesitantly. It's not that he's unsure about it, but the way Eva's asking is just making him doubt. 

Or maybe he is doubting. He just hasn't really considered it. Except when - 

But he's not going to consider it, either. 

"What about yours, anyway?" he asks. 

She gives a loud sigh. "Nothing exciting," she says. "It's so fucking difficult to meet new people when you aren't at uni. I see my coworkers daily, and that's about it. So I tried tinder, but you put that you're bi and all you get is people asking for threesomes. It's fucking terrible."

"Shit," Isak says, trying for sympathy but with no idea how to be good at that. 

"Yeah," she nods, and it seems that she's about to continue the conversation, but Isak's attention is taken by someone else asking for a drink. "We'll catch up in a bit, yeah?" she asks, moving back towards their table. 

Isak nods, and appreciates the break from having to discuss that sort of thing. Kind of hopes he stays busy all evening. 

 

*

 

He should do some laundry. That chair in the corner of his room is piling up with dirty clothes, and hanging on the back of the door - because it deserves more than that chair - is Even's hoodie. 

He has until tuesday to wash it, but he doesn't often do laundry more than once a week (regardless of whether he should) so it's sort of the only chance. 

But it's - for some reason, it just seems a shame to wash it so soon. No part of it makes sense, but it's - maybe it's that when he lifts it up to his nose, it - 

It's fucking weird, is what it is. He's just fucking strange. 

But so calming. Maybe it is fucking strange, but he has to know what was so good about it, now that he's actually thinking about it, so he lifts it again, slowly, just to surround himself in it. 

He can't describe it. Doesn't know if he wants to. It's just - nice. Just nice. 

Yeah. He should wash it. Maybe there's some brain altering chemicals in it. That's the sanest explanation he has. 

 

*

 

**Jonas (12:53):** _hey we’re all meeting at Mags place tonight for a drink, wanna come?_

_ It might be the last time I see other humans before I lock myself in my house to study.  _

_ meet at yours and we can walk together?  _

**Isak (14:54):** _ sure, sounds good.  _

If Even's going to be there, he should take the hoodie. But then - everyone would see. Everyone would know he - and it's not weird, but they might make it weird, and it would hurt his head if they asked about it. 

But then, maybe Even's not going to be there, anyway. Maybe he's not any less tired than he was on Friday. Isak wouldn't know, he's pulled his hand away from his phone and away from  texting him more times than he can count. It was Isak who started the conversation last time, so if he does it again, he’d just be bothering him. 

It's been two days since they had that conversation over text. Isak goes back to it in his phone, Even's little smiley face that Isak didn't know how to reply to. Maybe Even thinks that it should be Isak to start a conversation, because he messaged last. But how is he supposed to know which it is? 

He just wants to -

He's never  _ wanted _ to text someone before, at least not for a while.  At least, not just for the sake of texting them. He's wanted to text Jonas a couple of times, but that's a feeling he's grown up with. It's not a new feeling, for a new person that barely knows him. And surely, at some point, Even will know him too much. Maybe already, and that's why he hasn't texted. 

He looks between the phone and the clean hoodie on his table. 

He types  _ hey, are you going to mags tonight? should i bring your hoodie?  _  and deletes it.

He types  _ hey, i don’t know if  you’re going tonight but i haven’t washed your hoodie yet, sorry _ and deletes that, too.

He types  _ hey, how are you _ just because he knows he can delete it, and he does.

He imagines seeing Even tonight, empty handed, and tries to imagine anger to prepare himself for it. But - 

Maybe he doesn’t know Even well enough. He still can’t imagine him being angry. All Isak’s brain produces is understanding. 

That can’t be right. Isak doesn’t deserve that. He’s being selfish - knowing that won’t make him bring the hoodie, but. He’s just selfish. It doesn’t deserve understanding. Selfish. 

Maybe he just shouldn’t go. If he goes, he’ll make a mess. Like always. Like fucking always.

 

*

 

He goes.

Even is there. The hoodie isn’t. 

All it takes is “uh, sorry, I forgot your -” and Even understands. He smiles, and sits on the sofa beside Isak. Less tired than he was on Friday, brighter, happier. 

Isak feels brighter, next to him. Almost smiling into his fucking beer.

Conversation around them turns to Jonas - his studying, his exams. 

"Yeah, man," he says. "Six more weeks and I'll be free. And I barely even care if I fail. I just want it to be over." 

"What are we gonna do to celebrate?" asks Mahdi. 

"Get drunk off our asses?" suggests Magnus. 

"That's pretty much a given," says Even. 

"Definitely a given," says Jonas. "I was thinking we should all go to my grandma's cabin for a few days. Its pretty nice up there."

"Yes!" Magnus punches the air. "Sounds awesome, dude." 

"Sweet," Mahdi nods. 

Isak looks over at Even for his reaction. He's smiling, wide, and nodding. "I'm down." 

"Isak? You in?" 

It sort of astounds Isak how Jonas remembers that he's there, even when Isak himself doesn't. He turns back to Jonas, and forces enthusiasm. Or as close as he can get to it. 

"Oh, uh, I'd have to see if I can get time off work but it sounds cool, yeah." 

Either they're all good actors, or they really can't hear how fake he sounds. At least, that is, until he turns back to look at Even, and sees his smile. Understanding, in a gentle way. In a terrifying way. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friendos  
> this chapter is Anxiety to the Max and theres a couple of sentences that reference self destructive behaviours and theyre not graphic i dont think but pls take care of urselves ily all (i dont know how or even if i should be warning about this sort of thing bc idk. pls lemme know if i should be saying more specifics or anything)  
> anyways enjoy lol

It's a nice evening, actually, when the subject moves away from a cabin trip that Isak doesn't think he'll actually be persuaded to go to. Doesn't think they'll  _ want _ to persuade him when it comes down to it, but at least there's six weeks to let them down gently. 

Last time he hung out with all of the boys, Even was in his line of sight when he faced forward. He hadn't realised that he kind of relied on being able to see him, until now, when he's next to him, and Isak has to keep turning, and he's not so close that it's uncomfortable but it's close enough that he feels noticeable. 

But it's just because - he wants to check up on Even. Check that he's okay, and stuff, because three days ago he was exhausted, and Isak just wants to make sure he isn't getting overwhelmed. It's just - that. That's it. And maybe - 

He likes looking. 

And he wishes he hadn't thought that. It's fucking - no, he just can't think that, he's not - it's fucking difficult, and Isak can't be - like that. 

Or - it's not like it's a surprise, that he likes looking. He knew that he already did, and - with the hoodie, and - 

It's just that, on the other side. If he reads too much into this, now, then he might start to hope that, maybe Even would like to look at him, too, and it's just. He's spent so long getting to this point, where they're friends, and comfortable, and now Isak just knows he's going to overthink everything and wonder what if Even did, even when Isak knows for a fact that he's exhausting to just be around, let alone lo- feel anything for. 

This has to stop.

He's zoned out of the conversation again, and when he tunes back in, Magnus is talking unashamedly about whatever it was that he and his girlfriend did in bed last night. 

Even's face is in his hands, Mahdi is shaking his head with a "What the hell, man?" and then Jonas's response - just - sends Isak right back to zoning out into his spiralling confusion again. 

"Fucking hell, dude. I'm gonna have to go back to therapy now." 

The others laugh at it as if it's nothing, and maybe it is. Maybe it's just how he phrased it that's weird, because - well, it can't be anything else. Jonas doesn't have anything wrong with him. He would have told Isak. 

Wouldn't he? 

Two fucking years. 

He’s so fucking selfish.

 

*

 

It’s nearly 11PM when he finally leaves, and Jonas follows him out, which is exactly what he didn't want, because he wasn't exactly intending to go home. 

He just feels - weird, out of control, and not in the not-so-bad way that it's been recently, because this time its fucking horrible. And he remembers the deal he made with himself about going to see his mum when that happens, to restart his routine, to give him that comfort he relies on even though with finding Even there and taking his sister, maybe it won't work anymore. But it's the best idea that he has, and the cemetery isn't far. 

Sure, he might get fucking - murdered by ghosts or something, but - 

"Where are you going?" Jonas asks, when he turns the opposite way to the way they both came. 

"I, uh, I." He doesn't really know what to say. 

Jonas narrows his eyes. "You alright? You've been kind of -" 

Isak shrugs, and Jonas tails off.

"I wanted to see my mum," he says, almost under his breath because it takes too much out of him to speak any louder. 

Jonas could reply with anything, any words of discouragement, he could point out how late it is, the fact that Isak's alone, the fact that she's not even fucking there. 

He doesn't. "Want some company?" 

Isak shrugs again. 

Somehow, Jonas knows he means yes, even when Isak wasn't sure himself. 

They spend the first few minutes in silence, while Isak learns to breathe again. He gets the sense that Jonas won’t be the first to talk, leaving it up to him because he’s probably the one who has the messiest head right now. 

He doesn't know if there's any way for him to talk about it, though. If asking would just make things more awkward, and what if it really was just him phrasing it weirdly?

And then, the other thing going round in his brain, tangling itself up with the thought spirals about that, and getting confused because he thinks one way about one thing and one way about the other and it gets beyond recognition in his head until he barely even knows what he's thinking about anymore.

And he remembers a second later, and it just. Its just weird, and he shouldn't even be thinking about Even anyway, and he doesn't need to, and he knows there's probably a rational explanation for thinking that he likes looking, and if he says anything out loud before he finds that, it'll just be impossible for him to get away from, even when it's definitely not real. Saying it out loud would make it real, but it's not. He can't control his thoughts but he can tell when they're fucking lying to him. 

And Jonas is still walking quietly beside him, hands in his pockets and nibbling at his bottom lip because he's probably worried about Isak and. Isak knows this is fucking weird, okay? He knows it's weird to go to a fucking graveyard close to midnight and it's even weirder that he asked Jonas to come with him, or at least made Jonas ask if he wanted him to come, probably guilted him into it, he's so fucking selfish. 

"Why did you want to come with me?" he finally asks, sort of spits it out, almost. 

Jonas let's out a little huff of laughter, not mean, exactly, just, maybe, surprised? How is Isak meant to know anyway? 

"Didn't want you freaking out by yourself. Remember the haunted house?" 

Isak does. They were eight, at a funfair. The first time they'd been allowed to go without parents - but with Lea. They spent their two final ride tickets on the haunted house, and Jonas barely made it two steps in before he ran back out. Isak had made it four steps in, and then hidden in a corner somewhere. 

Lea found him, after about half an hour. It felt a lot longer to Isak. 

But the truth is, Isak’s brain is too scrambled to register anything about the fact that it might be creepy to be in a cemetery at night. And if he did feel scared, at least he’d finally have an emotion that he could put a label on.

“I’m -” he doesn’t even know how that sentence would continue. “I just -” still nothing. 

Well, he could say  _ I’m fucking shit at this, _ but it’s not like that would be any sort of revelation for Jonas.

He takes a deep breath - as deep as it can be, given the tightness in his chest. “Did you go to therapy?”

Jonas looks down at the floor, and nods. “I thought that might be what this was about.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know it freaks you out, Isak.”

“No, I -” he sighs. He can’t entirely deny that. “I just didn’t know. Are you - are you okay?”

“I’m okay now,” Jonas says. “It was last year, I just got stressed to fuck with uni. But it’s fine, now,” he shrugs. “Until Mags talks about his sex life.”

Isak tries to laugh, but he’s sort of stuck on the  _ last year  _ part of it all. Last year, when he wasn’t even speaking to any of them - when he doesn’t even remember half of the year, because, well, nothing fucking happened. He basically slept through it, but then, he sort of, keeps forgetting that life continued for everyone else. Stuff happened. He missed it. He wasn’t there.

And he has to ask.

"Was it - my fault?" 

Jonas shakes his head vigorously. "No, Jesus, not at all. It wasn't anybody's fault, it just - turned out that way."

Isak nods slowly. "I should have been there, though."

"No, it's - I mean, I didn't even try and reach out to you, at that point. I kept telling myself you'd reach out when you were ready, and I should leave you alone, but then I - I think I gave up, and with everything else, I couldn’t really - anyway, Magnus told me I should see someone about it, and, cynical as I was, it actually helped." 

“Magnus?”

“Yeah, he’s fucking wise when he wants to be. I was as shocked as you are.”

Isak laughs quietly, but adds nothing more. There’s only a few seconds silence, a few seconds respite before Jonas goes and ruins it all.

“Have you ever thought about going?”

“What?”

“To therapy, man. It’s not as scary as it sounds.”

Isak shakes his head. “No, I - why would I? No.”

Jonas doesn’t push it, just sighs. “Okay. I - alright.”

Isak’s thankful for it, but, at the same time, maybe he should explain.

“You know when I went for the meal with Dad and Lea?” 

“Yeah?”

“I, uh, I mean, Dad was, like.” he should have practiced this in his head before he said it out loud. He breathes. “Dad said shit about how mum’s thing could be genetic. Like he thinks because I don’t reply to his texts that I - anyway, I don’t want to prove him right. And I don’t need it, anyway,” his own words make him tense again, because Jonas could think that he means that if it weren't for his dad - but he doesn’t. “I’m fine. Seriously.”

It takes him a second, but eventually, Jonas nods. “Okay. Your dad continues to be a dick, then?”

“I mean, what did you expect?”

“Yeah, not much, from him.”

Isak sighs. Then breathes in, out, in again. His lungs have started working again. They’re still fifteen minutes away from the cemetery, closer to Jonas’s place than there. The sky is dark, the streets only illuminated by orange streetlights and the occasional headlights. 

Isak thinks about the haunted house, and smiles a little at the memory.

“We don’t - I don’t really need to see my mum. It’s kind of late.”

“You sure?”

Isak nods. “I can’t stop thinking about the haunted house, man.”

 

*

 

**Jonas added you to the group "boyzzzzzz"**

**Jonas (12:34):** _the meeting of the cabin trip is now in session_

_ I have discussed with my grandmother _

_ and since I am in fact her favourite and most handsome grandson she has allowed me to have the cabin for 8th - 12th june _

**Magnus (12:34):** _are you her only grandson._

 **Jonas (12:34):** _no_

 **Isak (12:35):** _he is_

 **Magnus (12:35):** _Isak it is so damn good to have you back._

**Isak (12:35):** ✌️

 

*

 

He has the hoodie, this time. and Even's there, at KB, and it's all kind of okay. He's sort of been practicing this thing in his head, and he holds the hoodie across he counter to Even with a smile. 

"Does this get me a free coffee?" 

He hesitates more than he did in his head, but it has the right effect. Even laughs. 

"Maybe. Only if you're really nice to me."

Isak raises an eyebrow. "Mm, maybe I'll just go somewhere else." 

Even gives him an adorable exaggerated pout, and Isak can’t help but grin until he realises that in his head he just described Even as adorable, and, what the fuck. It’s not even a word he would use for, like, a baby animal or something. He doesn’t like that word, it doesn’t sound right coming from him. It’s just - weird. 

He clears his throat and looks down, his mind looping over and over with the words  _ fucking stupid _ , and he almost doesn’t hear Even say “you want the usual?” with a smiling lilt to it. Laughing at him, probably. 

Isak nods, still not looking up, and Even turns away to make the drink.

A minute - which passes like a second in loop in Isak's brain - later, and Even slides the drink over to him. 

"So what are you thinking about the cabin?" he asks, and Isak tenses, though he knows Even wouldn't be upset if he told the truth. 

"I don't know," he says as a compromise for himself. "It could be fun." 

Even tilts his head. "You don't sound convinced." 

Isak shrugs, tries and fails to make it seem as though he doesn't agree. "If I was you guys I wouldn't invite me." 

Even raises an eyebrow. "Then you don't realise how much everyone wants you there." 

Isak gives his best unimpressed face. "You don't realise how exhausting I am to be around." 

He's definitely saying too much, and probably with the wrong intentions. It's probably just making everything worse, that by saying it he's making himself even more exhausting to be around, when all he really wants is for Even to disagree with him. Reassure him. 

"I'm pretty sure I have solid proof that that's not true." 

It sort of works, and sort of just makes him feel worse. Because how else could Even respond anyway? Just agree with him? Even if that was what he wanted to do, it's not Even's style. 

But Isak gives the tiniest of smiles, anyway. "Okay. Thanks, I guess." 

Even adds his own smile, wide and real and bright as fucking ever. "Please say you'll come." 

Isak relents with a fond sigh. "I'll think about it." 

"What will it take to convince you?" 

Isak narrows his eyes. "Depends what you're offering."

Wait. Did that sound weird? Fuck. He knows it did. 

Even just flicks his eyebrows up. "I'll think of something." 

 

*

 

**Even 🌵(19:35):** _ I googled space stuff to persuade you to come to the cabin _

_ Since it'll be kinda far from everything so you'll probably be able to see stars and whatnot _

_ Apparently jupiter will be visible from earth on June 10th _

_ Are you convinced yet _

**Isak (00:33):** _ oh so you just want to remind me of when lea crushed my dreams okay _

**Even (00:34):** _ 🙁 _

**Isak (00:34):** _ i'm kidding that sounds pretty cool actually  _

**Even (00:35): 😄😎👍😀🎉🎉🎉**

**Isak (00:36):** _ if i told you to chill would you _

**Even (00:37): 😎😊😁😄😚😮😤🤯🤪🥳🤠🤓😺🙉🙈✌️💪🤙🤟🙌🏡🏞️✨🎆🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉**

**Isak (00:37):** _ thanks for clarifying _

**Even (00:38):** _ So will you come?  _

**Isak (00:49):** _ oh, shit, I've been invited for tea with the princess that exact weekend :/ _

**Even (00:50):** _ https://open.spotify.com/track/2dBwB667LHQkLhdYlwLUZK?si=w1WbQDNASfWqkeuKNdP9bg [Summertime Sadness - Lana Del Rey]  _

_ Me now _

**Isak (00:52):** _it's_ _april_

**Even (00:53):** _ But it'll be summer in june _

**Isak (00:54):** _ not until the 21st _

**Even (00:54):** _ I can't believe you're making a joke out of my sadness and despair _

_ https://open.spotify.com/track/6LZcAIeFdUd3qDoU4ISGia?si=PAuO5rrwTpWeNiZFApl4ng [Fake Friends - Sigrid]  _

**Isak (00:56):** _ i'm hurt _

**Even (00:58):** _ How do you think I feel 😭😭😭 _

**Isak (00:59):** _ just buy yourself another houseplant you'll be fine _

**Even (00:59):** _ If I buy you a houseplant will you stop being so grumpy?  _

**Isak (01:00):** _ i’d probably just forget to water it _

**Even (01:00):** _ I’ll send you daily reminders _

_ I’ll be like the duolingo owl but for plants _

**Isak (01:01):** _ i thought you were trying to make me less grumpy  _

**Even (01:01):** _ Nah, the grumpiness is part of your charm _

**Isak (01:02):** 🤨

**Even (01:02):** 😊

 

*

 

It doesn't seem any clearer in the morning - not any single part of it. What Even is doing, why he says things like that, why he smiles like that or sends songs or just. Anything. Why does he do any of this. 

Or - no, it makes sense. It's just how Even is. It shouldn't even have taken him that long to work it out. 

It's just that, well, Isak is - letting those thoughts take over again. 

Fuck. 

How does he remind himself that he's not that kind of person? That he's better off alone? Because he knows he is. He just has to get past all the irrational thoughts.

 

*

 

**Even (15:43):** _ Would it persuade you to come if I promise not to try and have any control over the music at the cabin?  _

 

Isak doesn't reply, and he's tense all through his shift that evening. If Even shows up he doesn't know what he'll do. And he might say something - something understanding and fucking kind about how Isak didn't reply to him - he wouldn't get angry, because he just fucking doesn't. He'd be so fucking nice about it and Isak would have to tell him that he didn't reply because he's  _ not _ a nice person like Even is, he's not made for that kind of thing, he's fucking exhausting and boring and draining and he takes every bit of niceness and kindness and twists it out of shape until it's unrecognisable, and then he hands it back with a shrug and walks off. 

He doesn't cry at work, but he could. Out of frustration, because he knows he's not fucking good enough or anything enough for - for anything, and yet people are in his life treating him like they want him there but they don't know him like he knows himself and they don't realise what they're getting themselves into. 

There's a knife on the counter in the back room and he sees himself plunging it into his own stomach, carving out all of the fucking mess inside him and replacing it with someone who doesn't need to feel anything, much less need to label the feelings. 

It doesn't hurt when he imagines it. And yeah, it would, if he actually did it, which he obviously fucking won't, but. If it happened like how he imagines it, he'd just feel relief. Relief enough to let him sleep because he didn't really last night. 

He should have gone to see his mum, after all he thought he didn't need to with Jonas there blocking the thoughts in his head from being real. 

Tomorrow, though. He can go tomorrow. 

Maybe it'll help. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all i rlly wanna say about this chapter is "self callout! those are rare!"  
> and also enjoy sorry for the delay lmao, only like two more chapters until the cabin trip. life is slow in the slow burn world.

It sort of helps. Or maybe it’s just a distraction, to have smoke filling his lungs and cold ground beneath him. The steady weight of his phone in one hand, thumb hovering over contacts, over Lea.

He can’t think of who else to ring. And he said he would - ring her, that is. Sometime. It’s only been a couple of weeks, maybe that’s not long enough yet.

She’s probably at work, anyway. Like most people are at this time. 

Maybe he could ring someone else. Sana, maybe? But she’ll be in the middle of exams, like Jonas, more stressed than ever. He can’t interrupt.

Eva? She’d ask too many questions. It’s her that brings up the concept of him having a - which he doesn’t. This isn’t that.

He’s never been able to talk to Noora like that, Linn hates phone calls, Eskild - just no. And this isn’t the sort of thing that he’d have talked to Magnus and Mahdi about, even before he disappeared for two years.

He doesn’t even know what it is he wants to talk about. He just knows he can’t say it to Even. And, his text is still unanswered. Isak doesn’t even remember how to talk to him, in the space of two days.

But it’s still not as though he’s going to say anything out loud.

He presses down. 

And Lea picks up on the third ring, before he has a chance to think  _ she probably won't even pick up.  _

"Hello?" She sounds worried. It occurs to Isak that he hasn't called her in over two years. 

"Hey, Lea."

"Isak, is - are you okay?" 

He lets out a quiet laugh. "Yeah, sorry, I. I told you I'd ring sometime, so." 

"Wait, and you're following through? Who are you and what have you done with my baby brother?" 

He sighs, an exaggerated sigh, not really frustrated at all. He's smiling, in fact, though it fades when he realises he has to explain. "I just - I'm at the cemetery, and I wanted to - talk to someone, I guess, and I didn't really know who." 

"Oh. About Mum?" 

"Not really. Just - I don't know. What are you up to? Am I interrupting something?" 

"No, not at all. I'm just binging Gilmore Girls."

"Oh," he pauses, then thinks of something to say. "So I actually am interrupting?" 

She laughs. Isak's not entirely sure hearing it helps, but it does distract. He looks down at the end of the cigarette still burning between his fingers, and takes the last drag before putting it out in the grass and standing to find somewhere to throw it away. 

"You finally understand the sacred bond between me and Rory Gilmore?" 

"I mean - sure," Isak says. "More I just remember how pissed off you used to get when you were interrupted." 

"Because of the sacred bond," she says. "She knows me better than anyone." 

"Okay, sure." He's smiling, but he doesn't know what else to say. And he isn't really sure why he expected anything different. Isn't really sure why he called her, but it's - nice not to be in silence. Or, it was, and now he's messing it up again because he never knows what to say. 

"You got any summer plans?" Lea asks idly, and Isak can tell she's just filling the silence, same as what he wants to do. 

"N- uh, Jonas invited me along to a cabin with a few friends." 

"That sounds nice. How is Jonas?" It sounds as though her smile gets bigger as she asks about Jonas. "I kind of miss the kid."

It's strange to think that that's how she remembers him - fourteen years old, probably playing video games with Isak and both of them annoying the hell out of her. 

"He's - fine. Also definitely not a kid." 

She clicks her tongue. "Whatever. Are you two still inseparable?" 

That knife he thought about yesterday comes back to haunt him, and lodges itself in between his ribs. He gives a weak laugh. "Ha, yeah. Not as much as we used to be." 

"No? That's sad." 

Isak swallows. "We, uh. Lost touch for a while, I guess. After - um, when I left uni, and stuff. We like - reconnected back in January, and it's fine now, but - yeah. Kinda weird to think about." 

"Woah, yeah," Lea says quietly. "At least you're back in touch, though? I mean, life happens, sometimes. Long as you can get back, it's -" 

"Yeah - yeah. It's good." He desperately thinks back to. the question she asked him to start with, and reverses it. "What about you, anyway. Any plans for the summer?"

"I was thinking I'd fly back over to Oslo, come and stay with my baby brother again," she's grinning, Isak can hear it, and he thinks she's joking but he can't be sure. 

"I, uh, um -" 

"Maybe I'll tag along to the cabin, too, Jonas loves me, he'd let me come." 

Okay, yeah. She's definitely joking. Thank fuck. 

"Yeah, sure, I'll ask him for you. You can go instead of me." 

"You don't wanna go?" 

"Huh? No it was - I was joking, I -" 

"You sure about that?" 

Isak sighs. "Why wouldn't I be?" he says weakly, his last attempt to hide the crack that he knows she’s already noticed.

"You tell me,” she replies, and  _ fuck, _ she sounds so much like Mum. 

“Uh,” he half laughs through his words. “I don’t know, I - don’t like leaving the house, I guess.”

"Can't argue with that." 

"Yeah."

"But -" 

"So you can argue." 

"Well, yeah. You're the one that said you wanted to talk to someone." 

"Yeah, but not about -" he sighs, again. "I don't know."

"What's up?" 

He takes a shaky breath. It's been a while, since he - explained himself like this. "I guess I just don't feel like I know them that well." 

"Jonas? Or just the friends?" 

"I mean - all of them. Two of them I know from high school, but one of them, he's -" 

He's Even. A replacement for Isak, though Isak keeps forgetting that part. He's bright and too fucking kind and Isak understands him, he understands Isak, but to say they know each other - wouldn't that be too far? 

Maybe it wouldn't be. But it would be too close. To say he knows him, too close to admitting that maybe he - 

If that's even what it is. Which it isn't. 

"He's new," he settles on saying. "Jonas met him at uni last year or something. I only met him in January." 

"So it'd be awkward?" 

"I think so." 

She hums. "How long for?" 

"Four nights. And - I don't even know how they're getting there, or whether there's enough rooms or anything like that, I just. I'd rather stay home." 

"So do that." 

Isak doesn't reply, because the first thing that pops into his head is  _ I don't want to.  _

"Maybe you could just go for some of it?" Lea suggests. "Talk to Jonas, get more details. It might help you relax." 

"I am relaxed, what the fuck?" Ironically, he tenses up as he speaks. 

"I'm sure you are. But maybe you'd relax more if you talked to Jonas about it."

"Maybe," he replies quietly. Maybe he's annoyed she's right, or something. He's not really sure. 

He's been pacing up and down the cemetery throughout the conversation, and he's back where he started. Their conversation has kind of come to an end, but he finds a new subject, looking at his mum’s name.

"Do you think we should talk about her?" He remembers Lea can't see what he sees. "I mean about Mum. Aren’t we meant to?" 

She hums. "It'd probably be the healthy thing to do. But we're not exactly that kind of family." 

"No, we're not," Isak agrees. "I've talked about her, like, once." 

"Did it help?" 

"I'm not sure."

After a pause, Lea says - "I don’t think I've ever talked about her. Besides when people bring up parents and I have to do that awkward oh-no-she-died thing. I just don't know what to say. And it's not like I talked about her much before, anyway." 

"Yeah, me neither." 

"Let me know if you ever find any healthy coping mechanisms, though," Lea's smile is back. Isak's comes back too. 

"Yeah, you too. Anyway, I - uh, I should probably go. Let you get back to Rory Gilmore." 

"I appreciate it. It was nice to talk to you, though. Thanks." 

"Yeah, thanks for answering and stuff, I guess."

"Talk to you soon?" 

"I mean, I'll try." 

"Yeah, me too. Bye, Issy."

He rolls his eyes, then remembers with a smirk how to annoy her just as much. "Bye, Lelly." 

"Fuck, that's a throwback and a half."

He laughs, and hangs up. Keeps smiling, small, but unmistakable. 

The phone screen is black in his hand, but he presses the home button, and lights it up again. 

**Isak (14:43):** _ hey i know you’re busy studying but i just wondered if i come to the cabin i’d have my own room right? _

_ and would it be okay if i only came for some of it _

He’s immediately annoyed at himself for how he comes off in the texts, but they’re sent now. And it’s Jonas. Jonas doesn’t mind him being weird - or it’s a little late if he does.

**Jonas (14:46):** _ hey man, of course! there’s four rooms at the cabin, one of them’s a twin room but i’ll probably force magnus and even to share it bc they’re the ones who usually annoy me the most _

_ but i’ll make sure you can have your own room _

**Isak (14:47):** _ thanks  _

 

*

 

**Isak (16:56):** _ as long as you don't play gabrielle we're fine _

**Even (16:59):** _ You’ll come? 😃 _

**Isak (17:00):** _probably just for half of it but yeah_

**Even (17:01):** _ Yesssssss awesome  _

**Isak (17:05): 😎**

 

*****

 

"I have a confession to make." 

Isak had heard the door to the bar open but hadn't turned to see who it was. Now, though, he doesn't need to look - but he smiles and turns anyway. 

"Yeah? What's that?" 

"I've completely lost track of who owes who drinks," Even grins. 

Now that it's mentioned, Isak has, too. He's spent so long just enjoying Even's company that he sort of decided it didn't really matter anymore. (No thought to how selfish that might be. To assume Even felt the same.) 

He gives a self conscious laugh. "Uh, yeah, me too." 

Without replying, Even presses his lips together in a guilty smile, and Isak finds a moment of bravery in it.

“We don’t really need to keep track, though, do we?” He asks. “I mean, I’m not bothered if you aren’t. I think we’re pretty even anyway.”

Even’s guilty smile turns into a pleased one, and he nods.

“Definitely fine by me. Anything to not have to do maths."

Isak grins. "I used to love maths." 

"I am so glad that you included a used to, otherwise I would have called off the whole free coffees thing." 

Isak laughs. “I told you I used to like space. You can’t study stars without maths. That’s all physics is.”

“Gross,” Even teases. “Is that what you did at uni?”

"No, but I should have,” his smile fades. “I mean, I was going to quit medicine and start again doing physics, but I - yeah, I just left altogether, in the end.”

“Never thought of going back?”

He’s oversimplifying it when he answers. “Bit late.”

Even raises an eyebrow. “You’re talking to someone who didn’t start uni for the first time until he was 23.”

Isak doesn’t really know how to reply to that. He could explain that it’s not just that, or he could say that Even’s right, and then change the subject. He just shrugs. “I’m sure there’s a parallel universe out there where I did go back.”

There’s a moment where Even seems deep in thought, before he replies “you don’t always have to end up in the shit version.”

And Isak’s back in that KB all those weeks ago, saying way too much to someone he barely knew back then - but even then, he understood him. 

And now he’s breathing faster than normal but he’s back where he should be, in the bar, Even still opposite him and he’s not doing the fucking job that he’s here to do.

He fixes his mistake with a nervous laugh that’s nowhere near good enough.

“Uh, sorry, I was getting you a drink, right? What do you want?”

 

*

 

The idea of going back to uni doesn’t leave his head.

Which is fucking dumb, because it’s not like it’s the first he’s ever thought about it. It’s just that this time, he feels - like maybe because it’s come from - from someone who understands him. But that’s fucking dumb, too, because it’s not like he doesn’t understand himself.

Wait, no, actually that’s exactly the truth. 

He's never understood himself.

Even, though. Even understands him so well that it scares him. Makes him want to understand himself - makes him realise that maybe he could learn to. 

He thought this was a messy feeling, before, but it's not, really. Or - not always. Sometimes it just makes sense. He understands it. 

And then sometimes it mixes itself up in the overthinking parts of his brain, and he talks himself out of it, or further into it, or too far both ways and for a while he doesn't know what to do with himself, but he never does anything about it. 

The feeling doesn't leave. 

 

*

 

He's all alone on his weekend again - for the first time in a while, actually. And he feels guilty about it, like he should be doing something, seeing people, but he spends his week at work seeing people, and he's seen Even twice this week, so it's not like he's still seeing no one and kidding himself that he's got friends at work.

It kind of hurts to admit it, but he's fucking bored. He's basically watched everything on Netflix, and he's played fifa to death, and he just doesn't want to do anything else. 

He kind of wants to be, maybe, around someone. Maybe someone he could put a name to, but just anyone would probably do. 

But how would he start that conversation?  _ Hey, I just want to be around you. Would you let me do that?  _

In the conversation he constructs in his mind, Even says yes without hesitating. He's fucking kind about it, enthusiastic because Isak's brain wants him to be.  _ Hey, I just want to be around you too.  _

Isak calls bullshit on his own thoughts, and walks out of his apartment in the opposite direction to where he wants to go. Finds a different park, surrounds himself with different trees. It’s been raining a little, the ground’s wet beneath his feet, but now the sun’s out. It is, if he were the sort of person to care about that, a nice day. 

But he isn’t. He’s the sort of person to put on a jacket, forget his gloves, and go out anyway. Not that he’s needed gloves for a while now, the weather’s getting warmer - the days are getting nicer. 

It feels a little against his will, that it’s getting nicer. He’d rather it was still just cold and dark because it’s what he’s finally got used to after months, only for it to change again now, when he’s just started to think  _ hang on, maybe I should take gloves  _ before he goes out.

Now it’s  _ hang on, maybe I shouldn’t be wearing more than one hoodie. _

That makes him think of Even instead of winter now, when he wears more than one hoodie. In an irritating way it makes him smile to himself. 

It’s weird that he just lets it happen. Though he closes his eyes and sighs at himself in frustration, he doesn’t try to push it away anymore. It’s just how it is. His thoughts being weird about something that will never go anywhere. 

Ugh. He may not be trying to push it away anymore, but it’s still fucking stupid. Eva would have a field day if she knew.

And now he’s thinking about her, instead, about how, for all his grumbling, he loves Eva. He kind of wants to see her - but she'd ask about things he doesn't know how to lie about yet. 

Stopping short from the thoughts he's too deep into, he looks around at where he is. And, actually, he's not too far from kollektivet. Eskild's always saying how he should go more often, and he misses Linn. 

It feels weird to be the one to reach out, but then, he has to at some point, right? It was Eskild last time, and if he doesn't, it'll seem like he doesn't want them to reach out - or maybe he doesn't. 

Does he? It’s not a familiar feeling. He's not used to it. But yeah, he's kind of lonely, strange as it is to admit to himself. 

**Isak (16:56):** _ hey, are you or Linn or Noora around at all? I'm just walking near your apartment  _

**Eskild (16:57):** _OUR apartment, baby jesus, in my heart you still live here._

_ But YES! Me and Linny are home and we want to see your cute little face 😘😘😘 _

Isak has a strong sense that Eskild didn't actually ask Linn what she thought about it, given the speed at which he responded. 

But still, he smiles at the reply. Good that it came so fast he hasn't had time to think about how dumb the text he sent was. Whether it was too - but its fine. It's fine. He can go and see them. 

Feel less alone.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so so so much for reading! comments and kudos are always appreciated (but no pressure <3)  
> i'm on [tumblr!](http://evenshands.tumblr.com)  
> love always xxx


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